


Quarantined Science Partners

by LooneyMooney



Category: Super Robot Monkey Team Hyperforce Go!
Genre: ADHD, Autism, F/M, Gen, I drew blueprints for this, M/M, Mutual Pining, Neurodiversity, Now featuring actual fight scenes, Pining, Porn With Plot, Roomates, Sex Pollen, Slow Burn, THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, Trans Male Character, architecture???, quarantine fic, sex pollen as a plot device
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:33:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 34,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25722889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LooneyMooney/pseuds/LooneyMooney
Summary: Gibson and Otto get infected by one of the Alchemist’s potions, and have to be quarantined together until they can make an antidote. But it’s hard to focus on your work when feelings start getting involved.*******************************************************“There was a chemical spill. You should stay back, Captain Shugazoom, your lungs could get hurt.”“What?” The Captain squinted into the room. “Oh, that. That’s not a chemical spill, that’s just the sex pollen.”“WHAT?!?!” Otto cried, starting to actually panic now.Gibson could relate. “We got SEX POLLEN all over our IMPORTANT MEDICAL SUPPLIES???”
Relationships: Antauri/a functioning team, Captain Shugazoom/the Alchemist, Captain Shugazoom/the Skeleton King, Chiro/Jinmay (Super Robot Monkey Team), Gibson/Otto (Super Robot Monkey Team), Nova/SPRX-77 (Super Robot Monkey Team)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

It had been about a month or so since the war for Shugazoom had begun. The city and it’s residents were safe, but only for the short term - the Skeleton King’s forces had polluted the planet’s usually pristine waters, which led to a number of problems. People were getting sick from dehydration and some form of lead poisoning, the fishing industry that made up about %5 of the planet’s economic stability was in ruins, the aquatic life forms that lived in the planet’s oceans needed new homes, plumbing services were out causing a lack of proper hygiene...

_It’s funny,_ Gibson thought: _we’re so used to big battles over the fate of the universe, survived demons and monsters and even overcome death itself: and yet our people are being killed by something as simple and mundane as pollution. It’s crueler than any attack the Skeleton King has unleashed upon us, and we’re not even sure if he’s doing it on purpose!_

That’s why Otto, Gibson, Jinmay, and the elderly Captain Shugazoom were out here scavenging around the Alchemist’s old lab while the rest of the team - Chiro, Antauri, Nova and SPRX - were back in the city aiding the citizens, rationing out water bottles and guarding against the Skeleton King’s troops.

  
  


“Now, you’re absolutely certain that the items we seek are in the Alchemists old laboratory?”

“Sure as I am that water’s wet or air’s dry. Remember, it might have been decades ago for you, but it was only a few weeks ago for me that I was practically living with the guy.”

“You were roomates?” Gibson asked.

“Oh my god they were roomates,” said Otto.

“Yes, I suppose you could call us roomates. Sometimes more, sometimes less: I’m a difficult fellow to tie down! But this place was the closest thing I had to a home. My family’s old estate was always too big and empty for me to want to use for much more than the occasional date,” Captain Shugazoom said with a wink and a smile. Jinmay smiled indulgently as she took her mentor gently by the arm.

“Roomates or not, we still have to find that antidote and water filter, before there isn’t a Shugazoom left to protect. Where’s the Alchemist’s laboratory, Captain Shugazoom?”

“Well, the whole house is a laboratory, really. Alchie never could keep his work separate from his life, it all just ended up in a bit of a jumbled mess, no matter how hard he tried to organize it. I suppose that’s what lead to his downfall, eh?”

Gibson looked at Captain Shugazoom. His eyes were glazed over, nostalgic and wistful, stained with regret.

“I should have been there for him. I guess I just... took him for granted. I thought we had all the time in the world to live our lives as full as we could, to raise you monkeys together, and I was just... trying to enjoy my youth while I still could, before our responsibilities became too great for us to live our own lives anymore. Now look at us - the place we called home, left abandoned to rot in the woods. Our kids, left to grow up without us, make their own lives while I slept in the dirt and he fell into madness. If only I’d -“

His breath caught, and his old, tired eyes began to water. Jinmay tried to comfort him, but she was unsure of how to do so, hesitant.

Otto swooped down, hugging him. “It’s okay, Captain Shugazoom. It’s not your fault. So what if the Alchemist went crazy and we had to protect the city ourselves? It made us who we are. And I, for one, like being me! I like protecting people with the people I care about - you, Chiro, Jinmay, SPRX, Nova, Antauri, and Gibson. I’m glad we all get to be a family together now, even if life’s a bit sucky at the moment. We might not have Mandarin or the Alchemist, but without losing them we wouldn’t have ever met Chiro and Jinmay here, and I wouldn’t trade them for the world!”

“Aww, thanks Otto! I like you too,” Jinmay said with a smile, as she playfully punched Otto on the arm. Otto rubbed the spot cheerfully as they grinned at each other, and Gibson couldn’t help smiling softly at them from the distance. 

Captain Shugazoom was cheered as well, and he ruffled Jinmay’s hair as she giggled.

“I suppose I do like having you rascals around. I just wish the Alchemist could be here too. I know he’d love our little family just as much as I do, if not more. I just... I keep expecting him to walk around the corner and scold me for staying out too late, and tell me about his latest inventions, ask about how the arch enemies are doing. It’s... it’s jarring, being thrown into the future like this without my best friend.”

“I hate to burst your bubble, captain, but your “best friend” is the reason we’re in this whole mess in the first place. Do you at least have any idea where he kept his alchemy lab? There might be a potion there to help reverse the effects of the water poisoning.”

“Oh, he didn’t keep his potions in the alchemy station, that’s just where he made them. The potion cabinet’s in the kitchen, just above the food atomizer - there’s a lock in it though, to keep me and the monkeys out.”

“ ... Er, where was the kitchen, again?”

“Just downstairs, to the left of the living room, through the door on the right. Can’t miss it”

“Hmmm. Alright, I’ll check down there, while you lot look for the water filter.”

“Sounds like a plan!” Piped Jinmay, giving Gibson a small, playful salute.

“A water filter, eh?,” Captain Shugazoom mumbled; “I’d bet my socks that ol’ Alchie kept a few in that main hallway lab...”

While the Captain led Jinmay back through the massive double doors that led to the dark laboratory where the majority of the monkeys had been created, Gibson walked around the central stairwell that dominated the first floor. There were stairs spiraling upwards to the stained glass library lab where Chiro had revived Antauri, of course, but he had never looked closely enough to see if there was a way to get downstairs as well. 

Aha! There, around the back, were the rest of them - a hole in the floor accommodating the downwards spiral of stairs along the tree trunks that made and supported the core of the building.

Gibson walked down the stairs, hand training along the living wood as he descended. He found himself lost in thought, something familiar about every new part of this building, that omnipresent sense of deja vu...and had to swing around to avoid falling to his doom. It appeared as though about two thirds of the bottom floor had fallen to the ground, jostled off of the rest of the building by the very thorn-ladden trunks that held the building up and made the central stairwell. 

Peering down through the nonexistent ceiling, he could see that the fallen section of house had once been largely living areas - it held now torn-up sofas and broken bookshelves, round tables and cabinets, bedrooms - one for each monkey, and a large master bed and bath at the very edge near the front. The master bedroom held a ginormous four-poster king-sized bed, and the master bath looked more like a spa than any reasonably sized bathroom, with a large swimming pool taking up the majority of the space and a few smaller baths and showers closer to the walls. Thankfully, the kitchen did not appear to be among these ruins.

Letting out a relieved puff of breath, Gibson carefully crawled along the edge of floor that remained, and turned towards the part of the lower floor that was still intact. There seemed to be a bit of living area left, and a surprisingly closed-off kitchen - everything about his old home’s architecture up until now had screamed of shadowy or sunlit open spaces, high ceilings and large platforms, massive doors and glowing colors in the darkness. Although the high ceilings remained, this setup appeared far more cozy, closed-off, and almost bar-like. 

A long bar ran perpendicular to the building’s outer wall, creating the bottom half of a new wall in and of itself - presumably for serving food, if one were to go by the series of modernist barstools that lined the edge. The island ended with a normally-sized door near the massive round window to the right. Gibson hopped onto one of the barstools spinning for a moment before he lifted himself onto the steadier island, hoping to just pass through into the kitchen. He paused when he noticed the kitchen had been blocked off from the rest of the place with a sliding window.

“Curious,” Gibson whispered under his breath. He traced a finger along the window’s edge, wondering why on earth a man who was so drawn to large open spaces would make one of the most traditionally open parts of one’s household so purposefully sealed shut. If he’d wanted a separate kitchen and living area, he could have just completed the wall, instead of implementing this... bizzare, cafeteria windowed bar situation.

_Perhaps this was a cafeteria_ , Gibson thought, as he walked along the island to get to the kitchen door. There were a lot of chairs here, and a lot of space - the house had always held at least seven or eight members, after all, and who knew how large his creator’s circle of friends and allies was before his inevitable downward spiral into treachery?

Gibson shrugged and hopped off the island to open the kitchen door. 

The kitchen itself was just as big, open, and dark as the rest of the house, with another island at the very center, though this one was multi-tiered. It appeared as though there were another room along the outermost wall - perhaps a walk-in cupboard? - and equipped with multiples of each kitchen appliance. Three ovens, four massive refrigerators, five (5!) toasters, a stove with six burners, and an entire hot plate in the center island. _Otto would love this place_ , Gibson thought - plenty of space to experiment with any odd number of recipes. Maybe this was even where he got his love of the culinary arts to begin with - Gibson could see Otto cooking up a storm in this massive kitchen with their creator, making feasts for their entire family and _then_ some.

Oh, wait - there, above the sturdy red food atomizer, was an ornate, gothic cabinet. He crawled up onto the countertops to reach the cabinet in question. As predicted, it was secured with a lock far beyond his own understanding. He was primarily a medic, not an engineer, and his mechanical knowledge didn’t go far beyond circuit boards and the results of particle colliders and the like. Even then, he was more knowledgeable about what they did than how the individual pieces got put together. 

“I can’t make heads or tails of this infernal contraption.”

“Here, lemme take a look at it, Gibson!” Gibson started as he whirled his head around, to see Otto right behind him, looking over his shoulder. As usual, the overly-friendly monkey had no sense of personal space or boundaries whatsoever, and invaded Gibson’s personal bubble with a clueless sense of ease and nonchalance. Gibson felt his face grow hot as his companion loped his right arm around neck to take hold of the contraption, leaning casually against Gibson’s left side as he contemplated the lock.

“Wha-I-Otto! Don’t DO that!”

“Do what?” Otto replied innocently as he fiddled intently on the device in front of him.

“We’ve talked about this. Personal space bubbles?”

“Oh - right.” He carefully un-loped his arm from Gibson’s neck, and gave Gibson a sheepish smile. “Sorry about that, Gibson.”

Gibson huffed a bit, but let the issue slide as he stepped to the side to let Otto work. “Well, no matter. What do you make of this?”

“It’s fancy, but it doesn’t look too complicated. Let me just...”

Otto pulled some pickpocketing tools out of his head...purse...thing, and Gibson watched Otto work. It was a whirlwind of bafflingly expert movements, as he undid various parts and pieces, sticking the tools in here and there to jiggle and poke and prod until, somehow, against all reason, the complicated device gave a soft click and the doors to the cabinet creaked easily open. Otto mostly extracted himself from Gibson’s personal space - Gibson hadn’t even realized they’d drifted so close, watching him work like that - and was beaming at his science buddy, pleased with his work. 

“There - all done!”

“How the devil did you do that???”

“Oh, it wasn’t that hard. It’s a Quadra-fold locking mechanism, but you only really gotta find the tumblers in the main lock to pop it open.”

“But - but all you did was wiggle some sticks in it!!! How did...????”

“Well, yeah, that’s how lock picking works. You wiggle the tumblers in place until it thinks there’s a key in there, and all you gotta do is turn.”

“That’s - that’s absurd.” But Otto just shrugged in response, still smiling cheerfully, so Gibson turned his head towards the inside of the newly-revealed cabinet, muttering to himself as he sorted through the potions inside. His face grew hot as Otto leaned in to look over his shoulder again, and he stepped purposefully to the side.

“Well don’t just stand there breathing down my neck, help me look for the antidotes.”

“Oh - uh, Aye-Aye, Gibson!” He straightened his back and gave Gibson a salute (which gave Gibson a little more room to breathe, thank goodness) and started looking through the opposite side of the cabinet, picking up some of the bottles to read the labels.

His brow furrowed. “Um, Gibson? What exactly is it that we’re looking for, again?”

Right. As mechanically inclined as Otto was, Chemistry was Gibson’s field of expertise. He let himself preen a little at the pride that caused - smirking happily as he gave Otto some instructions.

“Well, we’ll need a water purification serum, as well as something to remove the pollutants from our citizen’s bodies, and hopefully restore our planet’s habitat. Activated Charcoal might help, but it’d wreck havoc on everyone’s digestive systems and render all medicines null and void, so I’d like to avoid using that if we can - there might be a potion to strengthen the abilities of kidneys in here, but organ-altering potions have a nasty habit of becoming cancerous in certain bodies, and we don’t have the facilities to easily remove any tumors that might pop up at the moment... just try to find whatever you think might be useful, and I’ll sort through it later, alright?”

“Alright!”

Otto placed the bottles in his hand back on the shelves. Gibson returned to skimming the labels. 

They continued in surprisingly amicable silence for a while, occasionally asking one another if they thought certain potions might be useful and setting the potentially useful potions aside, while putting the dangerous ones back in the cabinet shelves. They’d acquired quite a decent supply of valuable medical and chemical resources, enough to solve the water crisis and a large sum of potential future problems that might arise. Gibson delightedly wondered why they hadn’t thought to raid the Alchemist’s laboratory of supplies earlier - there were so many resources here, it was a viable scientific goldmine!

“Hey, Gibson, what’s this stuff?”

Gibson glanced sideways to look at the bottle - a tiny glass vial, no bigger than a thumb tack, filled with a powdery yellow substance, possibly sulfuric in nature. Gibson held his hand out to take it from his companion in order to more closely study the smaller label, and Otto handed it to him -

It slipped from their grasp.

The vial dropped down to the countertop, shattered on impact and released a big cloud of yellow powder up into the air around them. It tickled at his senses, covering the both of them (as well as a majority of their collected supplies) in a fine powder. Gibson sneezed. _This isn’t good._ He grabbed Otto’s hand and dashed them towards the Emergency Shower Station next to the cabinet, tugged on the handle and shoved Otto inside before following after as his partner sputtered in the water. 

Oh, drat. They could have used that water.

Oh well. They couldn’t save the city if they were dead from chemical burns, and Gibson was still reasonably certain that the yellow powder that coated them and their supplies was Sulfur, if not something equally as dangerous. He just hoped that too much of it hadn’t already gotten in their respiratory systems to do any internal damage.

“What was that for???”

“Basic lab safety dictates we cleanse ourselves immediately after coming into contact with an unknown substance, Otto. That might have been sulfur.”

“But we already found the sulfur. This was something else.”

“Well, if it’s not sulfur, then what was it?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I was asking you!”

“That just makes it even MORE dangerous!!!”

The door to the kitchen was flung open, Jinmay already in battle mode as Captain Shugazoom Glanced curiously into the kitchen from behind the window. Gibson flung out his arm, cursing as it let some of the powder that still clung to his fur into the air.

“Stay back, Jinmay! There’s been a chemical spill! The fumes could be poisonous!”

“I don’t have lungs, Gibson, I’ll be fine.”

“Why are you two taking a shower?” Captain Shugazoom asked, popping his head through the doorway when he couldn’t properly peer through the window.

Jinmay spared him a glance. “There was a chemical spill. You should stay back, Captain Shugazoom, your lungs could get hurt.”

“What?” The Captain squinted into the room. “Oh, that. That’s not a chemical spill, that’s just the sex pollen.”

“WHAT?!?!” Otto cried, starting to actually panic now.

Gibson could relate. “We got SEX POLLEN all over our IMPORTANT MEDICAL SUPPLIES???”

“Oh don’t worry, it’s not active for very long. The pollen loses its effects after a few minutes out of it’s vacuum seal, so long as it doesn’t come into contact with organic life. Should be safe to touch once it turns white, but you still don’t wanna ingest it, so... we’ve got a mess to clean up either way.” He shrugged.

Gibson swallowed. “What... What happens if it DOES come into contact with organic life...?”

“Well, it’s sex pollen, what do you THINK happens???”

“Are we gonna get pregnant?” Otto asked, as he put his hand on Gibson’s shoulder to peek out at their teammates with the demeanor of a nervous toddler. Gibson tried not to shudder at the contact, and shoved Otto away, ignoring his resulting glare so he could concentrate on the important conversation.

“No, not unless you were already biologically capable of that. It doesn’t do much, just makes you really horny.” Captain Shugazoom shrugged.

Gibson fumed. “Why does the Alchemist even HAVE sex pollen in his potions cabinet? And why do YOU know so much about it???”

Captain Shugazoom chuckled nostalgically. “Man, that was one CRAZY month.”

“We’re gonna be horny for a whole MONTH???” Otto cried

“Oh no, that’s just how long it took me and Alchie to stop, uh...” he glanced at Jinmay, who looked genuinely baffled, and cleared his throat. “Anyway. He needed to whip us up an antidote so he could get back to work and I could get back to saving the city. It doesn’t wear off naturally, as far as we can tell.”

“Where’s the antidote then?”

“Oh, it doesn’t keep well. Alchie had to make it fresh in order for it to work, you’d have to ask him to...”

The room fell dead silent, save for the sound of water from the utility shower. Captain Shugazoom looked... shocked, and sad, like he just remembered again that the Alchemist he’d known was dead, replaced by an undead god of doom that plagued their planet with war.

Gibson shook his head. “We don’t have time for this! There’s a water crisis, and a war to boot, and I need to get to work immediately in order to save everyone!”

“Oh no you don’t. That stuff’s contagious, at least between members of the same species, and we don’t want you two infecting the rest of the monkey team. The smartest thing to do is just put you two in quarantine until we can figure out a way to make that antidote.”

“We can’t do that! I’m the team’s medic, and Jinmay hasn’t had NEARLY enough medical training to take up my duties yet!” “And I’ve gotta fix the water filter so people stop getting poisoned!”

Jinmay held up her hands. “Alright, enough! I’m calling Antauri over from civilian duty - he’s completely inorganic like me, so he should also be immune to the... _whatever_ pollen. We’ll figure something out. Just... Stay in here until then. And try not to touch our supplies again!”

“There’s a guest bedroom just past the door on your left if you need it!” Shugazoom shouted as Jinmay closed the door, and Gibson heard the old man cackling as it shut all the way. 


	2. Gay Panic! In the Shower

Gibson felt his face flush with heat, blood roaring in his ears as he glared at the door. As if sensing the upcoming outburst, Otto placed a hand on Gibson’s shoulder again, sending that spark of... something racing through his blood again. He whipped around to tell his teammate to PLEASE respect his personal space, and stopped dead. 

Otto was looking at him with worried obsidian eyes, his bright green fur damp and ragged from the stream of water cascading down from above, pressing his usually slightly puffy fur flat against his skin. 

The monkeys all looked as though they had relatively the same body type at first glance, but they each had little differences that one could discern if they looked closely. Otto was always just a little bit taller than Gibson, strong from years of physical battle like the rest of them, with a healthy layer of fat padding the muscles in a way that Gibson knew made them far stronger. Otto was Big, Comfortable, Chaotic and Calm all at once, almost like a personification of the forest that surrounded them. 

It was the type of anatomically incredible body that made Gibson take pause and admire it from time to time, if only out of jealousy. The same jealousy he’d always had for that effortlessly incredible inventiveness.

But now, it wasn’t jealousy that he studied his companion’s body with - his eye took note of a single bead of water clinging to the snowy fur on his chest, and watched as gravity dragged it down across the deep green fur, until it hit the parts of fur dangling over where Gibson knew his pelvic plate was. It hung there for a moment. Eventually, gravity overcame surface tension, and the little bead of water dropped down to the shower floor in a plunk. Gibson swallowed, his brain fuzzy with desire and confusion. How could a simple example of the laws of physics across his partner’s body have affected him so quickly? He glanced up, then quickly looked away. Looking at Otto’s face right now was... a bit much. He pushed Otto’s hand off his shoulder, ignoring the slippery feeling of metal upon metal, and started looking anywhere but his companion, paying far too much attention to the utility shower’s controls as he shut off the stream.

“We should, ah... we should conserve the water. If the pollen infected us already, then there’s not much this can do anymore.”

Gibson could feel Otto looking at him for a very long time - his gaze burned, his breathing heavy, until Otto finally spoke, his voice cracking just a little.

“Alright. I’m gonna... go see if there’s any towels around here that we can use to dry ourselves off.”

Gibson nodded curtly, listening to Otto’s footsteps pad away and open the door to the guest bedroom. He let his head thunk just below the controls to the utility shower, eyes squeezed shut, trying desperately to will away his arousal. 

Gibson wasn’t usually the type to pay any sort of attention to his base desires. His time not spent fighting was typically occupied with his scientific research and chemical experiments, and very little time was left at all to pursue something as silly as romantic or sexual interests. He’d grown to respect Otto, sure, had to finally admit that his intelligence was on par with his own (despite the easygoing attitude and general... cluelessness), and their interests meshed pretty well, even if it did seem like Otto blew off his scientific ramblings more often than not to work with his own tools.  _ Oh, bad choice of words _ . Gibson cringed, reproductive anatomy pressing rather uncomfortably against his pelvic plate.  _ Not now, please _ . He rarely even thought about sex, though he had... fantasized, on occasion, about strong, tall, intelligent gentlemen who could sweep him off his feet in both body and mind... almost like Otto, if Otto took the time to actually talk to him. Though... Gibson had to admit, there was something startlingly attractive about the way Otto could just reach up and DO things without a second thought, so completely absorbed in his tasks that it read like ignorance until he revealed his secrets with so much PRIDE and SKILL and GLEE. Especially when that attention was turned to Gibson. Oh, the things those hands could do...

Gibson swallowed, and took deep, calming breaths, trying very hard to think unsexy thoughts so that his fierce erection would stop trying to bust out of the pelvic plate without his consent.  _ The icy cold of that one winter when they all almost died, the rainbow worm monster that almost destroyed countless inhabited planets, the ongoing water crisis, their terrible war with the Skeleton King... _

Eventually, he was able to be calm enough to walk back into the room.  _ Thank goodness: the pollen must still be in its early stages _ , Gibson thought.  _ I’ll have a little bit of time to work on an antidote before _ ...

His train of thought was interrupted when he swung open the door to the guest room and saw Otto, carefully rubbing his metal arms with a towel, stretching in the sunlight streaming through the window, fur still matted and forest-green from the moisture with beads of water sparkling as they clung to his fur.

Gibson slammed the door shut.

Okay. He could NOT go back in there. That was. FAR too distracting. He was banning himself from the guest room, he could sleep on the floor, or in one of those cabinets...

Otto opened the door, curiously poking his head out. “Gibson? Are you okay?”

Drat. There went his plans for self-isolating.”Erm... Yes. Yes, of course, I just... I need to get to a lab. Try and get started on an antidote before this... substance starts affecting our. Biology too much to. Um. Science.”

He wanted to slap his face at how terribly he’d communicated that, but refrained from doing so and instead pinched his lips between his teeth as he watched his partner lean against the door jab, hand on his chin as he hummed thoughtfully. His fur was less damp, now sticking up all over the place in funny spikes, and he had a towel wrapped around his chest, covering the majority of his body, which Gibson was grateful for, even as he wished for a towel of his own. Gibson shuffled his feet awkwardly, hyper-aware of his own soggy blue fur dripping puddles onto the (thankfully tiled) floor, and of the erection that had returned almost with full force at the sight of his partner. He caught Otto staring at him a bit more intensely than usual, and Gibson couldn’t help the bright blush that blazed his cheeks.

“Uhh, yeah! There’s a few doors in here. One of them’s definitely a linens closet, but there might be a lab in here somewhere?”

“Why would there be a laboratory attached to the guest bedroom?”

“I don’t know. Why is there a potions cabinet in the kitchen?” Otto shrugged. “Guy’s a bit weird.”

“No doubt.” Gibson paused. Stepping into the guest bedroom felt like a surrender somehow. Even though he logically knew that he’d already been infected by the pollen, he was still able to pretend out here in the cold kitchen that everything was at least  _ somewhat _ normal. His feelings would be harder to ignore in the warmth of the guest room he’d have to share with his partner, and he needed the chance to gather his wits so that he wouldn’t just...  _ jump _ Otto. 

Gibson doubted he would ever be brave enough to actually make the first move like that, but the fear was still there.

“Can I... Can you hand me a towel first? I don’t want to get more water on the floor if I can avoid it.”

Otto smiled warmly as his shoulders relaxed a bit. “Of course, buddy. Stay right here, I’ll get you the spare.”

He left the door open as he went back in to retrieve the towel, and Gibson got the chance to actually study the guest room through the sliver of door. It was abandoned like the rest of the building, dust motes floating in the sun telling him that the room as a whole would no doubt need some cleaning up. The bizarrely circular bed in the middle of the room was well-made, adorned with pale green fabrics. There was a salt lamp and a picture frame on the leftmost bedside table, but the sun hit the glass in such a way that he couldn’t quite make the picture out. An empty pot of dirt holding nothing but the withered remains of long-dead plants sat either side of the bed. Gibson wondered how often this room had been used, who had visited the Alchemist... did his creator have other friends, besides his super-powered roommate? Was the guest room meant for scientific colleagues, visitors from the city hoping to study the forests or old peers from beyond the stars... or did this “guest” room once belong to Captain Shugazoom himself?  _ Assuming they didn’t just share that ginormous bed in the master bedroom _ , Gibson thought, realizing that the Captain and his creator had shared a much...  _ closer _ relationship than he had originally thought, at least on occasion. There would surely be time to contemplate that later.

It wasn’t long before Otto returned to the doorway, and handed Gibson a towel with a warm blush and a warmer smile on his face. Gibson smiled back as he gratefully took the towel, stepping aside to rub his soaked fur dry enough to enter the room.

* * *

Otto was staring. He knew he was staring, just as well as he’d known that Gibson had asked for the towel as an excuse to stall and gather his thoughts for a moment, but he couldn’t help it. The knowledge that he’d most likely be stuck with his science buddy for the foreseeable future, and that they were both gonna be distracted, made his thoughts take a turn towards the gutter. 

And, in his defense, Gibson had always been beautiful.

Gibson was small and spry, elegant and poised, all long limbs and slim hips, wild gestures and calculated actions. There was an intoxicating chaos about him that was begging to be unleashed, held back by the logic he always restrained himself with. 

He was especially beautiful right now - a disheveled mad genius, dripping from their impromptu shared shower, still making his brain go into overtime in an effort to remain productive, long tail unconsciously flicking as he studiously dried himself off. Gibson had his back turned to his companion, giving Otto the chance to admire his partner’s backside. The water made his fur cling to his body, putting the contours of his body into sharp definition - Otto could SEE the slim, powerful muscles of his back, sharp shoulder blades and thick deltoids bleeding into mechanical musculature, supporting that big, smart head with HIS audio sensor adjustments (Otto, as always, felt a flicker of joy and pride to see Gibson wearing the tech mods that HE made for him - Otto LOVED making things for Gibson, because Gibson always came up with the BEST ways to use his toys, whether it be a new slot for his versatile arm guns or a sensory update) and the intricate plug at the base of his skull that, for some inexplicable reason, always made Otto squirm with a combination of mechanical and sensual curiosity. 

Gibson was taking care to dry off his mechanical parts first, and Otto was entranced. Mechanical things were his special interest- they always caught his attention, made him think and swoon in turns. Just like Gibson himself. He was drying off those long, metal arms, taking care to wipe up the moisture that had gathered in the crevices, meticulous and practical as always, taking his time to make absolutely sure he didn’t do a substandard job. 

He ran the towel down to the fingertips, and back up to his neck, and tilted his head a little to gather the moisture in the crevice between neck and shoulder with a sound so soft that Otto wouldn’t have heard it if he wasn’t paying such close attention. Leaving a portion of the towel to drape across his shoulder, Gibson took a corner of the towel in his hand to delicately poke at the entrance of his head port. 

This time it was Otto that bit his lip against a soft sound when Gibson delicately and meticulously started cleaning out the spaces between circuits right near his brain, and ohhh no he’s peeking over his shoulder. Oh _ applesauce _ , he’s caught you staring at him and his unamused glare is somehow really, REALLY hot right now, what with his fur still dripping water and clinging to his torso and LEGS and the towel almost teasingly draped over his chest like the robes of those Greco-Roman scholars he likes so much and his cloth-covered fingers still prodding into the sensitive circuits of the plug in the back of his head, the perfect image of organic and robotic sensuality. Otto could hear his cooling fans kick in to prevent his own circuits from overheating. His eyes must look like hearts at this point. 

Gibson’s pouting at him now, his lips pursed in what he knows is annoyance, but it’s really hard to tell the difference between the heat of anger and the heat of something more when it comes to Gibson sometimes, especially when he’s blushing like THAT -

“Do you MIND?” Gibson’s voice is dry, unamused, but squeaking with indignation at the very end, and Otto should probably be looking away now to avoid making his friend more uncomfortable than he already is. Just because Otto was in love with his best friend, didn’t mean that Gibson would return the sentiment - they had been thrown into this situation on accident, after all, and it wasn’t like Gibson had ever wanted him. Those heated glances in their emergency shower didn’t mean anything - of course attraction would be a side effect of sex pollen, wanted or not. It wasn’t in his place to make Gibson uncomfortable like this. It wasn’t his right, to look at Gibson like he already belonged to him.

So Otto dragged his eyes away from his gorgeous teammate and redirected his gaze to the floor, coughing delicately as he felt his face flare up with heat.

“Heh - Sorry, Gibson. You’re just... You’re really pretty.”

Otto dared to glance back up with a sheepish grin, and was able to see Gibson blinking back at him with wide eyes, before it was abruptly replaced with amusement.

“You think I’m “Pretty?” He asked with an amused but still vaguely astonished grin. “I’m not sure if I’ve ever been called PRETTY before. I’d probably go with a different adjective from that, perhaps “handsome” or “statuesque,” though the humans have told me I’m “cute” many times before.”

“Well, I think you’re all those things, Gibson!”

“Do you really now? ... Hm....” flattery was soon replaced with concern as he laid his towel to lay over both his shoulders, one hand tugging at the end while the other rested upon his chin, his tail flicking in thought. 

“Well, I mean... You’re always -“

“The pollen must be progressing more quickly than I thought,” said Gibson, looking at his companion with worried eyes. “We must get to work as soon as possible to attempt to reverse the effects - I do hope that the Alchemist’s odd sense of interior planning will grant us access to a lab while we are stuck in here.” 

He quickly rubbed the fur on his stomach area dry, and wrapped the towel around his waist, flinging one end over his shoulder like a toga to keep it from slipping rather than bother to tuck it in like Otto had done, and walked purposefully past Otto into their shared guest room. 


	3. Shenanigans

The room was warmly lit from the sunlight streaming in through another large round window, which Gibson now realized looked out the front of the building. The furthermost wall was made of tinted glass, the kind designed to let in light and allow a mostly unobstructed view of the outside while keeping the privacy of the room’s inhabitants, and looked out upon the forest, with the fallen ruins of the rest of the bottom floor clearly visible. The other three walls of the room were painted a steely grey-blue with an off-white trim, and the sparse furniture was adorned with light grey-green fabrics that matched the linens on the bed. (Gibson distantly wondered if the decor was actually all grayish, or if the room was just stained with age and dust like the rest of the building. He suspected it was a little bit of both - perhaps the room had once been brighter, more well-cared for.) There were suspended shelves along most of the room, containing some books and an astonishing amount of empty pots. There were even some raised flowerbeds on troughs running through the room, one of which Gibson recognized as being designed specifically for growing and harvesting potatoes.

Gibson detected a botany theme - perhaps this guest room had once doubled as a food garden, filled with fresh fruits and herbs and flowering plants to be cooked in the kitchen and fed to his strange little family, or supplementing his potions supply in the locked cabinet. He wondered if he and Otto had spent much time in this room before their memories had been wiped, helping their creator gather ingredients for potions or recipes. 

Maybe he and Otto should start a garden in or near the Super Robot, when they got back home - Otto would enjoy growing his own food, and it’d be useful for Gibson to grow certain ingredients for common medicines and science experiments to keep on hand. He wondered why they hadn’t thought of it before, and was already mentally drafting plans to do so before Otto playfully poked his shoulder.

“Whatcha thinking about, Gibson?”

“...This used to be a garden. An extensive one from the looks of it, though it’s hard to tell since most of the plants have died from decades of neglect. I was... thinking about how it might be useful, to start a garden of our own, once we got back home. You could grow herbs and vegetables, and I could grow medicinal plants, such as Aloe Vera, or bay leaves. It would take work to maintain of course, but it would make both our jobs much easier. I only wish I had thought of it before we went into space, it would have saved us the need to resupply quite as often.” 

Otto gasped, stars in his eyes, and grabbed Gibson by the cheeks as though to kiss him. “I LOVE that idea!!!”

Gibson smacked the hands away from his face, flustered and frustrated by his companion’s antics. “Could you at least let me TRY to make an antidote for our condition before you start slobbering all over me? It’s highly distracting.”

“Oh, heh. Sorry Gibson. Guess I just got carried away.”

“Yes, well. Let’s try to find a lab, shall we?”

Gibson wandered the room, hands clasped behind his back. There were two doors on the left hand wall of the room - one was open to reveal a linens closet, and Gibson opened the other door to find a moderately-sided full bathroom. The room was painted peach instead of blue, and had a more traditional shower station with a glass sliding door, a vanity mirror with a large sink (large enough to take a small bath in, if they so desired) and some slots for soaps and toothbrushes and the like (there was still a bar of soap in a dish on one side). A toilet sat right across from the mirror.  _ Well. At least we won’t have to worry about maintaining our hygiene. _

Gibson left the bathroom door open as he continued to explore the room, and spied another door next to the one that led to the kitchen. Curiously, he re-adjusted his towel and walked over to the door. The handle was a little higher than the others, but he could just barely reach it if he stood on his tip toes and stretched his hand out as far as it could go. He hopped, and finally managed to grab hold of the handle.

Darn. Locked.

He let go, dropping to the floor, and re-adjusted his towel before calling over his shoulder. “Otto, come over here, I need your help with something.”

“Sure thing Gibson, just a sec!” There was a crashing noise in the bathroom, followed by some yelping and the sound of someone quickly putting things away, before Otto rushed from the bathroom to Gibson’s side, smiling innocently. 

“... What can I do ya for, buddy?”

Gibson narrowed his eyes at Otto suspiciously, then shrugged, deciding to leave it be for now, and gestured towards the handle. “I believe this might be the laboratory I’ve been searching for, but the door is locked. I was wondering if you might be able to disengage it for me, as you did on the cabinets before.”

“Oh, sure thing! I just need ta get level with the lock first, it’s a little too high for me to actually work it.”

“Hm, I see what you mean. I could barely reach it myself...”

“Ooh! I know how to get to it!”

Otto scurried off to one of the larger pots on the ground, grabbed it, and tugged.

It didn’t budge. 

He tried scurrying around to the other side and pushing, to no avail.

After several moments of watching Otto try (and fail) to move the pot, Gibson let out an exasperated sigh. “What exactly are you trying to accomplish, Otto?”

“If I can get this flower pot to the door, I can stand on it and be tall enough to pick the lock! But it... Won’t...Budge!!!” He emphasized each word with a sharp tug to the flower pot, to no avail.

As much as Gibson loved watching Otto exert himself in such a way (there was something to be said about the rippling muscles under drying green fur, especially since the towel had slipped off after the third or fourth attempt to move the stubborn container), he was also impatient to get into the room behind the locked door.

“Oh, step aside, you big oaf, let me help.”

* * *

Several more minutes of pushing and pulling later, they collapsed against the stupid, stubborn flower pot, panting like dogs.

“It’s not gonna move, is it?” Said Otto.

“I can see that now, you blasted green SCOUNDREL!”

“Heh. Scoundrel, eh? Never really thought of myself as one of those, mr. handsome.”

“Shut up and help me think of a different solution! We still have to get that bloody door unlocked!”

“Hmmm. Well, since we can’t move the pot, maybe there’s something else we can use to get taller? Like the books or something.”

“Nonsense - even if we could reach those shelves, there aren’t nearly enough books in here to make a tall enough stack.”

“There might be enough. And we could reach the shelves if we stand on each other's shoulders...”

“Well then, why don’t we just do that to pick the lock?”

Otto looked Gibson up and down, assessing Gibson’s body with a critical, assessing eye. (Gibson tried not to fluster at the attention.) He shook his head. “You’d be too wiggly. I need a stable surface.”

“Too Wiggly? Nonsense, I can be stable as a rock If necessary.”

“And just as hard too” Otto muttered to himself.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” 

“It didn’t SOUND like nothing. What are you even worried about? Hmm?”

“Well, I mean, I AM kinda heavy, and you’re...”

“Don’t you DARE try and tell me I’m WEAK. I’ve been fighting for this team just as long as you have, remember?”

Otto sighed. “Alright, fine, we can try it. But you can’t move, or else it won’t work.”

“Of course.”

“Okay. Go stand by the door, I’ll get my tools ready.”

Gibson nodded, then (after a few more minutes of catching his breath - Otto could relate) hoisted himself up. Otto busied himself with pulling his lock-picking kit back out of his headspace. 

When he put his arm back down, tools in hand, he was able to glance up and see Gibson -

Oh.

Oh, well that was. Suggestive.

Gibson was standing near the door as instructed, feet planted just slightly more than shoulder-width apart on the ground, hands pressed to the door to provide a steadier surface, back slightly hunched; a position that placed his thin, toned ass in direct view of Otto’s eyes.  _ Sweet hot potatoes, it looks like he’s ready for me to mount him _ . Which, he... was, in a way, but not in the way that Otto’s suddenly perverted mind took.

Gibson looked over his shoulder, annoyed, and Otto’s breath caught. “Well don’t just stand there,” Gibson said, “get on top of me already. Start poking your weird little stick in that hole, or whatever it is you do.”

“Wha-huh?!?!” Otto was short-circuiting, his face was on fire, and his cooling fans were roaring almost as loudly as the blood in his ears. He blinked hard, rumbling his ears, trying to reset his senses and get his focus back on the task at hand. 

When his eyes opened again, Gibson was in the exact same suggestive position, but now he was blushing even more and rolling his eyes to hide it. “The  _ lock _ , Otto, pick the lock.”

Oh. “R-right,” Otto said, scrambling over to complete the task. Gibson huffed and turned his head back towards the door. Otto touched Gibson’s back to let him know he was there, and Gibson planted his feet a bit more firmly in response. Alrighty then. Otto climbed swiftly up Gibson’s outstretched back to perch on his shoulders, and got to work picking the lock.

They worked in amicable silence for a while, Otto concentrated on his task as Gibson supported him. Almost like their roles in the super robot, but reversed out of necessity - with Otto being the clever hands that completed the task at hand as Gibson provided steady support from below.

But it wasn’t long before Gibson (predictably) started wiggling uncomfortably. Each time Gibson shifted his body weight, it jostled the tools just slightly too far this way or that, Otto had to restart his work. Despite the relative simplicity of this lock compared to the one on the cabinet, this was becoming a much slower process. 

It didn’t help that their position kept distracting Otto in another way entirely. The port of Gibson’s head plug rubbed continuously and suggestively against Otto’s pelvic plate, and that action alone sent heady sparks through his mainframe. It was making his work (among other things) far harder than it should have been, and was giving him VERY bad ideas. 

Otto started getting frustrated - This should be easy! If only he could just -

“Would you hurry up? I can’t hold you here forever.”

“Well, keep still, would ya? I keep having to start all over again.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have trouble keeping still if it wasn’t taking you so long to do this one simple task...”

“It wouldn’t be taking me so long if you didn’t keep wiggling so much!”

“Oh, quit your whining and dismantle that infernal contraption already!”

“Quit your wiggling and maybe I will! You’re DISTRACTING me, Gibson!”

“Distracting you? Hah! Now you know how I feel whenever you decide to invade my lab!”

The wiggling was getting worse with their argument, Gibson naturally shifting his weight to emphasize the things he was saying and occasionally GRINDING the back of his HEAD against Otto’s groin, which was NOT a good idea because it was making his life SO much more difficult in SO many ways right now...

“Shut up, Gibson! Please! I can’t work when you’re like this!”

“YOU can’t work when I’M like this? Consider the feeling MUTUAL, you idiotic gremlin!”

“HEY! DON’T call me an idiot! I’m TRYING my BEST, you’re NOT making this easy!”

“How am I -“ Gibson gasped scandalously, “Oh, you HEATHEN! You’re getting OFF on this, aren’t you???”

“WHAT???”

“Admit it, you scandalous, no-good SCALLIWAG - you LIKE having me all pressed up against the door like this, holding your infernal WEIGHT, incapable of movement as you have your way with me and order me around! I can FEEL the tent in your pelvic plate, Otto, it’s right against my head port like some sort of PLUG!!!”

“Well, it’s hard not to get all wound up when you keep GRINDING it against me!!!!”

Gibson gasped even more scandalously. “HOW DARE, you, YOU...!”

Someone coughed behind them.

“Ahem. I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

Gibson and Otto both tried to whip their heads around at the same time, which inevitably led to gravity taking its toll on the both of them, landing them in a tangled mess of limbs on the floor. Antauri arced an eyebrow, leaning casually against the kitchen door.


	4. Antauri gives The Talk

Antauri had come as soon as he possibly could, finding an ally to replace his position on civilian duty (Olliana had been more than happy to help, since it gave her a chance to “hang out” with Chiro, Nova, and SPRX - Antauri had to admit, SPRX’s behavior towards their female allies had become a lot more tolerable since he and Nova had started dating “for realsies this time”) and flying to the Alchemist’s old laboratory as soon as possible. 

He parked the spare cruiser in the clearing in front of the Alchemist’s lab, and phased through the cruiser’s ceiling to fly up and in through the laboratory’s main doors. He was immediately greeted by an anxious Jinmay in her full armored robot mode. 

“Antauri! Oh, thank goodness you’re here.” He took a moment to accept her hug - Jinmay was a very affectionate young girl when she was scared, and Antauri always did try his best to comfort his kids whenever he could.

“Is everything alright, Jinmay? You sounded very anxious over the phone.”

“We’re fine, but Otto and Gibson got... infected.”

Metaphorical alarm bells started ringing in his robotic head - “Infected” could mean any number of things, from water poisoning to becoming a formless to catching a common cold.

“Is it deadly?”

“Not unless you monkeys can die of extreme horniness” said Captain Shugazoom, lounging on a nearby sofa. Antauri narrowed his eyes.

“Explain.”

“Otto and Gibson were looking through one of the Alchemist’s old potions cabinets and somehow got an... aphrodisiac, I guess...? All over everything. The Captain says it won’t wear off without an antidote, which only the Alchemist himself knew the exact recipe for.”

“I... See. And how dangerous should we consider this Aphrodisiac? Is it infectious?”

The Captain piped up again, rising from his place on the couch. “Don’t worry, it won’t affect anyone once it’s turned white. It’s only active when it’s yellow, immediately after being released from its vacuum seal. It might still be a good idea to wipe everything off before you start using it though, just in case. Otto and Gibson are highly contagious, but only to organic life in their species group - Alchie and I never tested it much ourselves after that first month, but it never seemed to affect you guys or our alien babysitters when we had it, so I’m assuming it won’t happen the other way ‘round either. But it’s wisest to keep them in quarantine just in case, they’ll be going at it like rabbits in a few hours or so anyway. You two aren’t organic, so you should both be fine.”

“I... see. Should we put you in quarantine as well, Captain?”

“I don’t know. Probably not? I never got closer than like, 50 feet away from the splash zone, and I only showed up after the spill happened anyway. I haven’t been feeling any raunchier than usual, though that might just be because my only company’s been a little robot girl, and she ain’t my type” he said with a playful wink. Antauri hummed in thought.

“Well, we should keep you isolated from other humans in the meantime just in case you are infectious. Jinmay, I want you to put the water filter in the ship so we can bring it to base as planned. Otto might be incapacitated, but we have other mechanics who can try to fix it. I’ll go retrieve the supplies and check on Otto and Gibson - we can leave once I’ve cleaned up and loaded the supplies onto the ship. Everyone clear?”

“Now, hold on a minute, mister sparklepants - I’m just supposed to sit here and do nothing, locked out of my own kitchen while Mr. Brainiac and the Green Goblin have their drug-induced honeymoon in our old garden bed???”

“It’s only until we know for sure that you haven’t been infected with the aphrodisiac, but yes. Thank you for summing up your duties, Captain Shugazoom.”

Antauri left him sputtering in indignation on the couch, moving towards the kitchen in question as Jinmay started using her frankly ridiculous strength to lug the water filter towards the spaceship. She shifted to hold the ginormous device in one hand (show-off) and call over to Antauri. “Try not to open the door, it might be best to keep the pollen as contained as possible.”

“I didn’t intend on opening it,” Antauri said as he phased through the floor in his ghost form. 

The kitchen was dimly-lit, an open cabinet on the far side of the room with a collection of bottles just underneath, covered in a fine white powder that had a pinkish tint when Antauri floated closer, though it was difficult to tell if that was its natural color or a reflection of Antauri’s softly glowing pink ghost form. There was an open door next to the cabinet, but it was generally silent for now, aside from the occasional grunt - he thought it best NOT to think about THAT for the time being - and got to work. 

Antauri was just finishing up with cleaning the mess when he started to hear the tell-tale ruckus of squabbling teammates in the direction of the open door. Antauri sighed and dumped the mess into an empty beaker from one of the cabinets (the substance might be useful to Gibson if he were to make an antidote) and brushed off his hands as best he could before gathering the willpower to peek through the open door.

His first impression was wondering _what on earth are Otto and Gibson even doing in there?_ His second thought was, _isn’t this aphrodisiac not supposed to kick in for another couple of hours???_ His third thought was that his teammates were idiots who needed to be interrupted immediately before they hurt themselves.

So of course, the first thing he said was “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” while knowing full well he was interrupting something, thankful to have been able to halt this bizarre ritual in its tracks before it escalated into the depravity that it was obviously heading towards. I mean really, what kind of imbecile would try to fuck a head port??? That would just end in pain for all parties involved. Antauri was probably going to have to give his teammates The Talk before he left, and he was _not_ looking forward to that. 

Gibson was, of course, the first to speak up, flustered to hell and back and trying to protect what little dignity he had left after being caught like that. “Antauri! It’s not what it looks like!!!”

Otto piped up. “Yeah, Antauri, we were just trying to get that door unlocked. Gibson thinks there’s a lab in there.”

Antauri remained unimpressed. “Mm-hmm. And why didn’t you just use your powers to break the door down?”

“Because we -“ “I-“ “We didn’t -“ “Think of that.” “Hmm.” “Why _didn’t_ we just use our powers?” “Oh, quiet, you.”

Well. Good thing they were back to normal.

“Hey, Antauri, since you’re here, do you think you could get the door open for us? You can probably just ghost right through and unlock it from the other side. No tools or weapons necessary!”

Antauri caught sight of the lock-picking tools - one had been thrown to the floor in the chaos, but the other was still stuck in the door. 

Antauri shrugged. “Alright.”

Otto cheered as Antauri walked further into the room and floated up to carefully pluck the tool out of the lock, tossing it over his shoulder as he phased through the door.

It was, indeed, a lab - a small, but very well-lit one, with various instruments and chemicals scattered around. It looked like a supplemental laboratory, used for smaller experiments and projects, while the bigger labs upstairs were for building much bigger projects and implementing tests. Antauri noticed another door, that would logically lead right back into the kitchen - the placement of the potions cabinet suddenly made a bit more sense. The Alchemist must have made and mixed a lot of the potions in this very lab, close to the garden and a variety of plumbing to wash up in case of emergencies. The arrangement of rooms felt very... domestic, in an odd sort of way. Antauri could imagine his Creator happily mixing potions in here with all the doors wide open, flooding the kitchen with natural light while his creations scurried and played, slipping food through the bar’s large window to friends and family in the large living room. It felt... odd, to remember that this building wasn’t just their birthplace, but their... home, once. 

Antauri shook his head, the edges of memories long since erased scratching at the edges of his mind with a bizarre sense of deja vu. Gibson, at least, would be comfortable working in here. 

He unlocked the door and opened it for his companions, and tried not to smile _too_ much at Gibson’s sudden bout of enthusiasm.

* * *

Antauri opened up the door, and Gibson saw Paradise. Light flooded the small space from a window, and it was almost like an angel’s chorus could be heard as he gazed upon the laboratory within. Advanced, state-of-the-art, sturdy equipment lined the walls - all antiques, really, but more than capable of accommodating his scientific needs! Chemical distillers, ion magno-generators, telescopes and microscopes, Bunsen burners, particle grinders, examination tables, and on and on and on...! 

Gibson twirled into the BEAUTIFUL lab, taking note of each and every unique piece of equipment, many of which he had only ever heard about but never gotten to use himself. Oh, the things he could do with a lab like this... the POSSIBILITIES of this place almost made his mouth water!

Why, there were even spare mechanical parts left over from the monkey’s own creation for Otto to play with! Gibson cast a glance to the side, to find Otto almost as starry-eyed as Gibson himself was at the introduction to the lab, immediately burying himself in a pile of mechanical rubbish (not rubbish, Gibson reminded himself - nothing was ever really just rubbish once Otto got his hands on it) with childlike glee.

Gibson found himself smiling bigger than ever. Perhaps... being trapped here for the time being wouldn’t be so bad. Hormones aside, Gibson couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten to have a vacation, and a few weeks spent alone with his best friend in a nice, isolated room with a well-equipped lab was a rather pleasant idea. 

Antauri poked him on the shoulder, and Gibson turned his head, knowing he was grinning like a loon and for once not really caring in the slightest. Antauri had a knowing grin of his own, as he handed Gibson a beaker full of white powder.

“I already cleaned up the supplies for transport, and I figured you could use this to help concoct an antidote for your current condition. If you could write down instructions on how to use the supplies to reverse the effects of the water crisis before you become indisposed, I would highly appreciate it, though I suggest sending instructions digitally to avoid cross-contamination.”

Gibson gingerly took the beaker from him, setting it aside on the table. It appeared dust had been collected along with the pollen, which had expanded as it continued to be exposed to the elements. Most curious.

“I can’t guarantee that my solution will produce the desired results immediately, Antauri - science is based on testing, after all, and I haven’t had the chance to do any tests at all - but I’ll be sure to send my initial instructions and hypothesis to Suppa. He can carry out testing and field research from there.”

* * *

Antauri nodded, hesitantly. “Suppa... that’s, the blue frog man, right? The one you were trapped on that planet with...?”

“My fellow scientist, yes. He’s trustworthy. Besides which, he’ll be glad to have a more active role in this solution - he’s amphibious, after all, and besides the fish people of Shugazoom’s oceans, he and his crew almost have the most to lose in this situation.”

“Very well, Gibson. I trust your judgement.”

“As well you should!”

“But before I leave, I do need to have one more important conversation with you and Otto.” Antauri paused as Otto and Gibson looked at him curiously, calling their attention to him for this announcement.

“It’s time we had... The Talk.”

Gibson sputtered and Otto flushed, both seemingly offended by his accusation. Otto was the first to speak up.

“Uh, you don’t have to do that, Antauri. I... kind of already know about all that, you know?”

Gibson nodded in agreement, flustered as he still was. “Yes, and while I don’t have any... practical experience in the area, I am a biologist, and research on the reproductive habits of all sorts of life forms is mandatory to understanding the Biological functions of any organism, especially those of our own bodies. Eager as I am to learn, I have no need for another lecture on the subject...!”

“Clearly, you both need a reminder of basic safety when it comes to matters of intimacy. Otto, I can’t believe I have to say this, but please don’t ever put your dick anywhere near Gibson’s head port. I don’t want to have to put one of our only fully-qualified medics in the emergency room.”

Otto pouted with a huff, and scoffed the ground with his toe, avoiding eye contact. “I wasn’t GONNA...”

“Be that as it may, I didn’t want to risk it becoming a consideration in the future.”

“As if I’d let him! I am NOT going to let my first time be some... drug-induced acrobatic brain scrambler like that! I would at least want to be _courted_.”

Otto turned to look at Gibson, shock painted across his face. “I didn’t know you were a virgin, Gibson!”

“Yes, well, aren’t we all? It’s not as though we have much TIME for trysts of the more intimate nature, what with our busy jobs as intergalactic war heroes and whatnot.”

An awkward silence fell across the room. Gibson gwacked at them. “You... you’re kidding me. How in bloody hell are you two NOT virgins???”

“I mean, uhhh.... I haven’t really done much, but I’ve had a few fuckbuddies...”

“Although my sexual encounters have largely slowed to a halt since losing my organic body, I am no stranger to trysts of a more intimate nature. It is unhealthy, after all, to ignore one’s desires.”

“You’re kidding me. All these years I thought we were all celibate, but apparently everyone’s been doing it behind my back!”

“It is not information that I typically felt was important to share with the team. My partners have never stayed for long, I’m afraid.”

“What happened to not keeping secrets from the team, hmmm?”

“That was a concern for Chiro, who is a minor under our care and protection. I didn’t want him keeping secrets from us. Our personal intimate endeavors are a different matter entirely, although I would not keep the truth from you if asked directly about it.”

“Gibson, I thought you liked doing it? You said it makes you feel all tingly, when we were all facing our fears, remember?”

Gibson groaned and slumped. “Please don’t remind me, I still get headaches thinking about that time. And for your information, Otto, I meant... doing it with MYSELF, I think. I have no prior experience with sex, though I’ve considered pursuing relationships with... certain peers, on occasion... I just never got far enough with any of them to ever, you know...” Gibson hid his face and flapped his hand in the air. “...Go all the way, as it were.”

“But you’re such a babe!”

Gibson glared at Otto through his fingers, who shrugged nonchalantly. 

“What? It’s TRUE.”

“Flattering as that is, Otto, my “babe” status has nothing to do with my virginity. I prefer not to pursue strangers just because they might find me attractive, and I’ve never had the opportunity to develop a relationship far enough to WANT anything like that.”

“Which brings us to the first and most important part of The Talk: Consent.”

“Oh brother.”

“Shhh! This is important!”

Gibson rolled his eyes and Otto sat cross-legged, seeming thoroughly invested in The Talk despite his apparent preexisting sexual experience and his usual inability to pay attention to anything. Gibson took issue to this order of events. “Shouldn’t the first lesson be a crash course on reproductive anatomy?”

“Well, I suppose discussions of consent as it relates to The Talk aren’t as valuable unless you know what you’re consenting to. But consent is about more than just sex - it’s about free will.”

“Free will - bah! As if we have any free will in this situation. We’re being trapped together, drugged into seduction and expected to breed amongst ourselves until we find a cure for an affliction we didn’t know about until we were already infected with it. What, pray tell, is consensual about that?”

“We could quarantine you separately, if you’d prefer. There are still a few hours left before the sex pollen takes effect.”

“Impossible. I’d already started feeling the aphrodasiac’s effects mere moments after contamination. I’m surprised you’ve been brave enough to stay around us for this long, Antauri: If Otto weren’t so clueless and I weren’t so intelligent, I’m sure we would have been going at it like rabbits by now.”

Otto scratched his head. “I mean... I haven’t been feeling any different...”

“Yes, well, you’re always a tad randy, aren’t you?”

“Whaddaya mean?”

“Well, let’s see... You’re an absolute glutton for any sort of punishment, and don’t even TRY to deny it you SHAMELESS HEATHEN... You’re always flirting, whether you realize it or not, what with you confidently flaunting that body of yours left and right. You never respect anyone’s personal space, and don’t even try to pretend you don’t know what that does to people, all distracting and touchy-feely. And you don’t even attempt to hide it when you’re attracted to someone, drooling over women and teasing like you do, and you’re just... always emanating this, this aura of uncaring, confident, dangerous sex appeal, it’s not proper in the LEAST.”

“I’m, uh... I’m flattered? That you think of me like that? But um. Most of that stuff is just autism junk. Social unawareness, lack of boundaries... but um. Thank you for thinking that’s sexy???”

“Yes, well, regardless of how attractive we find one another, that still doesn’t equate to consent, now does it?’

Antauri decided to finally interrupt so he could continue his lesson. As entertaining as this was, they only had a few hours before the pollen actually did kick in, and he knew these two could go on like this forever without outside interference. “Of course not, Gibson, but communicating openly and honestly about your feelings like this is an important part of establishing consent either way. I wasn’t lying when I said we have a few hours before the pollen kicks in - otherwise, I most likely wouldn’t be here, having this conversation with you. We have some time to establish boundaries.”

Gibson was left dumbfounded. “No, that... that can’t be right, I... why, I was certain that I’d felt the effects of arousal earlier in the shower...”

“You were in the shower?”

“Oh, shut up, Antauri, it wasn’t like that! We’d been exposed to an unknown substance, I was merely following basic laboratory safety procedures.” Gibson turned and started muttering to himself. “It must have been some sort of bloody placebo effect...”

Gibson started sending heated, calculating glances toward their teammate. Perhaps they didn’t have as much time as previously anticipated - it hadn’t even been about half an hour since he’d come down here, but the Captain’s estimate as to how much time they had left before the effects of the pollen took over might have been miscalculated. And, relieved though he was that they’d finally settle whatever tension there was between them one way or the other, Antari really did not want to be here when his teammates finally snapped. At the same time, he had to make sure his teammates knew how to not hurt themselves or one another during their inevitable escapades. 

“Whatever you do, I’d advise establishing a safe word first. Whenever someone says the safe word, sexual or not, you have to stop whatever it is you’re doing to eachother and ensure that the both of you are safe and comfortable. Is that understood?”

Otto raised his hand. “Ooh, ooh, I know about those! My safe word is Vegetarian!” He said with a cheerful smile.

Antauri raised an eyebrow. “I’ll try my best not to be offended by that.”

Otto ignored him in favor of his companion. “Hey, Gibson - do you have a safe word?”

“No, but - well, I’ve never had a need for such a thing, have I? Not until now, anyway.”

“Well, anything can be a safe word! But it’s best to choose something kinda weird and specific, that really grosses you out.”

“Very well. I suppose my safe word should be something simple, so that you can remember it, Otto. Hm... What about “Insect?” Is that a viable safeword?”

“Yeah, that’s perfect!”

“So when I say “Insect,” you’ll stop what you’re doing?”

“Yeah! And when I say “Vegetarian,” you stop too, okay?”

“Alright. That seems reasonable enough. It’s sort of... reassuring, actually.”

They briefly shared a grin, and Antauri felt... a distant, familiar sort of dissonance. He’d never really felt attraction towards any of his current teammates, and he was glad they were finding companionship with one another. But, it did sometimes make him feel... a little bit further, a little bit more removed, separate from the rest of his team. _Like a ghost._

“What’s next, Antauri?”

Antauri mentally shook himself out of his internal conflicts and smiled, glad that part of the conversation went well. “Well, now that we’ve established the rules of consent, it’s time to move on to contraception.”

Otto gasped. “I don’t wanna get pregnant!!! We’re not ready to have babies!!!”

“Otto, PLEASE. You can’t get pregnant, we’re both men.”

“Oh. Uhhh... right.” Otto blinked. “Waaaaaaait a minute.... no, that’s not right. I’m trans, remember?”

“Well, yes but - well, you’ve been doing gender therapy for ages now. I should know, I’m your doctor! While I suppose risk of pregnancy isn’t ENTIRELY eradicated, it DOES exponentially reduce one’s fertility. ... when was the last time you had a menstrual cycle?”

Otto shrugged. “I don’t know. I only get one like... once or twice a year now? And even then it’s usually pretty light... WAY less than before.”

“Hmmm. Well, if that’s the case, then I suppose that your worries aren’t ENTIRELY unfounded... But if we _do_ use proper contraception, we shouldn’t have anything to worry about at all. Do you have proper supplies in that headspace of yours?”

Otto nodded happily. “Yup! I’ve always got stuff for any situation - condoms, lube, tampons-“

“Tampons? I thought you said you didn’t get heavy menstrual cycles anymore?”

“Oh, they’re not for me, they’re for Nova! She _always_ forgets.”

Antauri paused. “Do I... should I go out and get you some... supplies for your stay here? After I drop off the water purification supplies with Jinmay? Are you going to need...?”

“We could probably use some groceries. I’ve got a few emergency snacks in the ol’ headspace, but I don’t know how long that’ll last us.”

“Yes, that would be a rather good idea. I doubt any of the food in here is any good anymore, and we’ll be stuck here for quite a while if the Captain’s to be believed.”

“And more lube! Can never have enough lube. And maybe some more condoms, I’ve only got a few, and I don’t know Gibson’s size.”

“Otto!”

“What? It’s important!”

“... We might need some cleaning supplies as well, that room is a bit of a nightmare and I’m not sure how long it’ll take to solve the water crisis...”

“Alright. I’ll pick some stuff up while I’m out. ... try not to get too... _excited_ while I’m gone.”

“We’ll do our best, Antauri. Besides, we've got far too much work for... CAVORTING.”

Antauri looked at Gibson doubtfully, and closed the door behind him when he left the lab. 


	5. Getting Tied Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: things start getting a little steamy in this chapter. Some bondage is involved, and a little bit of masochism as well (though not an unhealthy amount by any means! Don’t worry, nobody actually gets HURT hurt, just kinky.) Not worthy of a rating change quite yet, but don’t worry, we’re getting there ;)

Antauri closed the door behind him when he left the lab, and Gibson and Otto were alone.

Tension wound thick and hot between them, thick enough to cut with a butter knife and serve on toast. The sunlight filtered down to them, and lit Gibson up in a halo that made his fur look like the sky at break of dusk, broken by soft creamy clouds of white and framed by shining silver. His obsidian eyes caught the light of the sun, diffusing in the lenses to make them as deep and warm a brown as the earth itself. Otto was mesmerized, but he also registered the anxiety that Gibson was starting to tense up with, something that made Otto hesitant to break their moment in fear that Gibson might snap into a crumpled ball of nerves.

But he also knew Gibson was gonna need to be grounded in reality soon, or else that would happen anyway.

So he cautiously reached out a hand and carefully placed it on Gibson’s sun-warmed shoulder.

He spun around and caught Otto by the wrists and pinned him to the lab table, breathing heavily and glaring fiercely. Otto’s breath caught, captivated by his partner... in more ways than one. They stayed like that for a while, eye-to-eye, hand to wrist, chest to chest, sharing breath in a moment that seemed to bring time to a standstill. 

Otto blinked.

Gibson’s eyes flickered, and he released his companion, then took a careful step back.

“I - I have to get to work.”

“Uhhh... yeah, me...” Otto swallowed and exhaled. “me too.”

Gibson nodded curtly, and started to busy himself with his work, probably setting up his supplies and getting the transmission ready for Suppa. 

Otto took a deep breath, and gathered the courage to move. His hand caught his wrist, and his exhale was more of a shiver than anything else - it was gonna be hard, staying focused on work with all.... THIS happening at the same time. 

But they DID have work to do. Gibson had to coordinate with Suppa about his fancy medical chemistry stuff, and Otto had to talk to someone about the state of the broken water purifier they’d found. 

Otto shuffled back over to the workbench with the pile of mechanical parts, and started flipping through his contacts in the allies.

Mobius Quint had a bit of mechanical knowledge, but only for spaceships really, and he was a little bit obsessed with making things blow up. Olliana’s area of mechanical expertise was more with holographic technology, projection mapping, and interactive programming - useful for making decoys, video games, and training simulations, but not really for fixing water filters. The Aquarians were knowledgeable of fluid mechanics, particle physics, and technomancy, but they didn’t know much of anything about air or particle filters, so that might not be a good idea, and he wasn't really on good terms with them anyway. Suppa’s green friend Mottau might be able to do something with it, but Otto hadn’t actually seen him at work all that often, and he didn’t really know the guy all that well anyway - not like how Gibson knew Suppa. 

The Robo-Simians were close enough to him, but none of them really had much mechanical expertise, not unless you counted...

Scrapperton. Although formerly a co-conspirator with the Skeleton King, he’d fled the conflict after his second defeat, and had allied himself with the Robo-Simians they’d befriended. Once the Robo-Simians joined the war effort, Scrapperton wasn’t too far behind, and though they’d gotten off to a rocky start, he was soon convinced to join their side in the fight against Skeleton King. He’d grown especially fond of Jinmay, and treated her like the daughter he’d never had - which Jinmay appreciated, because she’d never had a real dad before either. Otto had collaborated with Scrapperton over the course of the war once or twice, and he’d proven himself a surprisingly kind and clever man with an intimate knowledge of all sorts of mechanical things. He would be likely to not only fix the water filter, but improve its performance, and in record time! 

Satisfied with his decision, Otto began to draft up his proposal to Scrapperton. He got absorbed in the task of tinkering with things and drafting up mechanical ideas; by the time he finally let himself send the transmission and take a break, the lighting of the room had changed. The sun was setting, and the room was dappled in patches of sunlight filtered through the thick foliage. He rolled his shoulders, groaning when they popped, and glanced at Gibson as he continued to stretch - Gibson was hunched over his work, and he seemed distracted, mumbling to himself and twitching every now and again. Gibson probably wouldn’t want to be disturbed - he seemed very absorbed in his task, and Gibson always hated it when Otto broke his focus, especially in the lab.

This wasn’t their REAL lab, though, so maybe the rules were different...? Otto contemplated the pros and cons of bothering Gibson as he stretched, recovering physically from the burdens of hyper focus. Oh, that felt GOOD. 

“Otto, would you PLEASE be quiet? I’m TRYING to focus!!!”

Well. That answered THAT question.

Now that Gibson was completely facing him, Otto could get a good look at him. And Gibson was... kind of a wreck, to be honest, but it was kinda hot. Kinda REALLY hot. His fur was disheveled from him running his fingers through it so often as it dried, his muscles were twitching, his eyes were shadowed, and he looked... dark. Repressed. Hungry. Like he was just barely restraining some beast inside that wanted to pounce Otto, devour him from the bottom up. 

Otto blinked hard and opened his eyes, eyelids fluttering. Gibson was still staring at him with the repressed, lurking, hormonal rage of a cat in heat. 

He had to say something. Hopefully something other than “you’re really hot and sexy right now please fuck me.” Something that’ll diffuse Gibson, but also maybe seduce him somehow because he IS VERY hot and sexy right now and Otto would very much like to be fucked by him. Preferably in the butt, but he wasn’t feeling all that picky right now.

“Uhhhhhhhhh...”  _ Oh, very smooth, Otto, bravo, well-done, _ a sarcastic voice that suspiciously sounded like Gibson whispered in the back of his head. Otto told it to shoosh, he needed to talk to the real Gibson right now. 

“You’re really hot.” 

_ Burgers _ . That wasn’t what he’d meant to say.

Gibson blinked, then shook his entire body in a way that was more violent than a shiver but just as instinctual.  _ Like a character in one of those really pretty animated Japanese movies that Nova liked so much _ . Then he shook his head furiously and slammed his forearms back onto the work bench, trying to get back to his work. “That’s very nice, Otto, but I’m BUSY. Go take your compliments and your... NOISES and get OUT OF MY WAY.”

“Maybe you should tie me up somewhere and keep me right where you want me.”

Gibson whipped his head back around and stared at him as if he’d grown a second head. 

Otto blinked. “Uhhh... Did I say that out loud?”

Gibson nodded slowly, with his lips pressed tightly together and his eyes very, very wide. Otto blushed and shrank back.

“Uhhh... Sorry... I didn’t...” Otto started mumbling awkwardly, not even really aware of what he was saying himself anymore. 

“Otto, that’s... not actually a bad idea, really.”

Otto glanced up. Oh. Gibson was staring at him again, eyes narrowed, contemplative, studying....  _ smirking _ . Oh. This was bad. This was very, very bad, because Otto was getting very, VERY aroused from that look. He squirmed in place, and squeezed his thighs together, hoping to relieve and/or hide some of the tension that was starting to gather just above his pelvic plate. 

“It... It’s not?”

“No. In fact, I do believe that that is a PHENOMENAL idea.” Gibson set down the tools he was working with, pressed a button on his external long-range comm receptor, and let it snap shut. He got down from his chair and started stalking towards Otto, hands behind his back, casually continuing to speak as he stalked forwards.

“I should tie you up, somewhere out of the way, study you, maybe do some....” he was right next to Otto now, crowding him, and hissed seductively in his ear... “ _ tests _ .”

Otto swallowed. “What, uh... what kind of tests...?”

Gibson chuckled, and Otto squeaked as he felt warm hands on his hips, skimming their palms upwards along his sides as Gibson crowded him more against the workbench. “That, Otto my dear, we can figure out together.”

Gibson grabbed Otto’s wrists, and it all spiraled downhill from there.

Oh. Oh, no, this was too much. This was really, REALLY hot. Otto could feel his brain fogging up, his body melting under Gibson’s touch, his throat keening as his hands were forced above his head, tied together with a tingling blast of some sort of magnetic energy coil and then to an overhead bar, and then Gibson was ducking down below and ohhh his BREATH was dancing warmly across his pelvic plate, and he felt another blast to his feet, and then suddenly Gibson was sliding back up, and he could hear Gibson’s shuddering breath as his partner thunked his head against Otto’s chest and inhaled and oh, oh this was incredible. Just getting lost for a moment, collapsing in on one another and supporting each other like a house of cards.

They stayed like that, shaking and breathing and leaning against each other, until Gibson moved his hands to Otto’s chest and pushed himself away, glaring at his partner as he clutched at him.

“See, this? This is why you need to be tied up. I can’t - can’t THINK when you’re just... just right here, waiting for me to...” Gibson took a deep breath, trying to gather his wits, and looked back up at Otto. “You’re a tempting bastard, you know that?”

Otto was caught up in Gibson’s beautiful eyes and couldn’t really form a coherent response. “Uh-huh...”

Gibson smiled and made a noise halfway between a giggle and a chuckle, planting his forehead back into Otto’s chest fur. “You’re an idiot” he said fondly. 

“I’m your idiot” Otto muttered into the top of Gibson’s head. Gibson shook his head rapidly, burying his face further into his partner’s chest.

“No. You don’t get to say that. You’re really really smart. I’m the only one who gets to call you an idiot, and that’s just ‘cuz I’m jealous.”

“You think I’m smart?” 

“Frustratingly so!” Gibson said with a burst of noise and movement, arms flung out dramatically. “You. Are. Impossible!” 

“Nothin’s impossible. Not with us.”

“And THAT,  _ MY DEAR _ , is the most frustrating part of it all. You are so impossibly intelligent, inventive, like you can just reach in towards the darkest depths of my imagination and pluck out these impossible designs I can only DREAM of, and you make it all REAL as if it’s NOTHING! I envy you, I envy your skill and your mind and your  _ body _ -“ Gibson trailed a rough, squeezing hand up Otto’s side, and he squirmed and bit back a whining moan at the attention - “and your SHAMELESSNESS. Here I am, fighting every little fleeting moment of arousal you cause, while you just soak it all in, finding pleasure in whatever torture I cause you. SUGGESTING it, even. Why, I bet you’d even  _ beg _ for it...”

Gibson continued to touch Otto, insatiable metal hands roaming his body hungrily, posessively, listlessly. There was no specific thing he was trying to cause, he was just trying to  _ feel _ as much as possible. And it was driving Otto absolutely NUTS. 

“Gibson... Gibson, PLEASE...”

Gibson pulled back a bit, giving him a bemused, lust-clouded, crooked smile.

“See? You’re already begging.”

Otto melted from the heat in those eyes, not even trying to bite back his whimper this time. Gibson’s breath caught, and he leaned forward to brush his lips to Otto’s com receptors with a shaky, ecstatic exhale of breath.

“”Please” WHAT, Otto?”

Oh man. “T-touch me?”

“Already doing that, I’m afraid.” He squeezed the flesh in his hands again for emphasis, and Otto moaned, his head tipping back. “You’re going to have to be a bit more...” his hot breath brushed against the antenna of Otto’s com receptors again, “ _ specific _ .”

Otto moaned again, and the floodgates broke.

“Fuck me, fuck me fuck me fuck me  _ PLEASE _ , GIBSON-“

Gibson’s breath caught, and he clutched at Otto, arms wrapping around his captive companion in a full embrace. 

“Where, Otto? Tell me where you want me...”

Otto nearly sobbed with the intense waves of arousal, and tried his best to push his voice past the sudden lump in his throat.

“I - I...” he swallowed. “I don’t....”

Gibson leaned away, and gently tilted Otto’s head so they could look each other in the eyes. Otto’s breath caught - both from the intensity of his feelings, and from the gentle sentiment of the gesture.

“Shhhh, shhhh. Take your time, Otto my dear, we have all night to sort ourselves out.”

Otto shuddered with pleasure as Gibson continued to stroke him everywhere and whisper sweet nothings in his ear. He eventually gained the mental strength to ask for what, exactly, he wanted.

“I - in my butt? Please?”

Gibson’s breath caught. He gripped at Otto, stilling his soothing, stroking movements, and Otto moaned as metal dug into his flesh. The little intoxicating sparks of pain unleashed something in him, and his loose tongue begged mindlessly once again.

“Gibson, Gibson please, please fuck me, fuck, fuck me in the butt, I’m begging you here, I wanna feel you inside me, please please please please please -“

“Are you positive? You want me to... to copulate with your anal cavity? While you’re like this?” Gibson paired his question with a hesitant hand trailing down his spine, past the jet pack and straight for the tailbone at the small of his back, sending Otto’s body shivering with anticipation as Gibson gripped the base of his tail, just above his butt. Otto nodded rapidly, thrashing his body into the grip on his tail, trying to get it closer to where he wanted it.

“ Yes, yes yes yes yes YES! Gibson, GIBSON, PLEASE - I-“

He was interrupted with a searing, beautiful kiss, Gibson’s mouth crashing into his own as his hand gripped the base of his tail, his other arm curling posessively around his body as their tails tangled. 

Otto bucked, and their pelvic plates clanged together. They both moaned from the feeling of sensitive metal rubbing together, and Otto cried out against Gibson’s lips when he felt the shock wave up in his nether regions, and Gibson’s answering groan as he let his face fall into the column of Otto’s throat. With a growl, Gibson started licking and biting and kissing there, messy, inexperienced, PASSIONATE, and oh so perfect that Otto couldn’t help the series of thoughtless sounds that escaped his parted lips as they ground together, pleasure and delightful flashes of pain taking him over in waves of bliss. 

“You - you’re absolutely PERFECT, you know that? You impossible, beautiful, shameless cretin, you don’t even KNOW how much I want you, you  _ rapscallion _ . Now, open yourself to me, so that I might RAVISH you.”

Otto blinked, the intensity of Gibson’s presence, his words, his touch, almost sending him into some sort of blissful sensory overload before he stopped, blinking, realizing that Gibson was waiting for something.

“Wha do ya mean by that, Gibson?”

Gibson sighed, hands still gripping as he moved his head back to look him in the eye. 

“Open your head space, Otto, I need supplies for this endeavor.”

“Oh. Right.” Otto instinctually tried to lean down so that his headspace would be level with Gibson’s eyes, before realizing two things - one, that he couldn’t lean down from this position, and two, that whatever Gibson had tied him down with was stretchy and tingled in a way that was really, REALLY pleasant. His back arched with a moan as pleasure-pain sparked through him, leaving him feeling limp, gooey, and impossibly more aroused.

He heard the little hike in Gibson’s breath, and saw his eyes get bigger. 

“Heh... uhh, sorry, Gibson, you’re gonna have ta... get it yourself. I can’t lean down, and it...” he moaned again as he tugged on the bonds again, just a little bit, and they snapped back to the overhead bar with another shockwave of pleasurable pain. “Holy guacamole, Gibson, that feels  _ good _ .”

Gibson coughed, his eyes still dark with lust but bright with hesitancy. “I... ahem... never thought my magnetic energy cuffs could be considered... AROUSING. Besides for the act of tying you up, anyways. Perhaps the energy field is being enhanced by the metal in your cybernetic arms, or reacting with the energy already inherent in your weapons... or, more curious, the metal in your arms could be acting as a conductor to link your internal energy with the energy in the cuffs, making a stronger feedback loop that makes you...” Gibson swallowed. “One moment, please.” 

He scurried off, and while Otto was disappointed from the sudden lack of Gibson’s presence, he watched him through fond and heavy eyes. Gibson scurried around the lab picking up this thing or that, babbling excitedly. He rushed back with an armful of equipment, and Otto felt a sharp spike of arousal as Gibson looked up at him with bubbling manic glee. 

“Well, Otto, I believe it’s time we do some... tests.” He dumped the stuff down and started sorting through it excitedly, setting a stool down and clambering up to mess with Otto’s arms.

Otto looked up, to see Gibson holding a single lightbulb. He gently took one of Otto’s trapped hands in his own, and held the butt of the object against Otto’s palm. It lit up, basking the two of them in soft light. Gibson’s breath stuttered, and Otto couldn’t help but follow.

“We’re a GENERATOR,” Gibson said breathlessly, “energy flowing through one another, completing a circuit we didn’t know existed until it was tripped. This... this is incredible.” Gibson blinked and looked down at him with wide, curious, amazed eyes. “You’re incredible.” Gibson laughed, an amazed, disbelieving noise, and Otto was love-struck. 

He was hit with the sudden desire to kiss Gibson, and was for once frustrated by the bonds holding him there. He whined, trying to pull himself up by the bonds which held him, and the light grew brighter, Making Gibson stare in disbelief. 

“Gibson...!”

“Yes, Otto?”

Gibson leaned forward, and Otto wrapped his tail around him, managing to drag him close enough for the kiss he craved. Sparks flew, and Gibson dropped the lightbulb against the table to hold Otto’s face with one hand, flipping the other around to lace their fingers together. 

Otto pressed forward, and came forward again when Gibson’s lips parted with a small gasp, delving into the wet, electric heat of his mouth, and they lost all common sense together, giving and taking, tangled in a beautiful liquid dance they could both lose themselves in. 

They eventually parted, gasping, whispering against eachother in a thousand little kisses.

“Otto -“

“ _ Gibson _ .”

Gibson chuckled, and Otto could feel it, a deep, warm vibration against his body. “I do believe I promised you a good fuck in the arse, didn’t I?”

Otto made an eager little high-pitched noise he couldn’t classify, and nodded his head rapidly. Gibson grinned.

“Well, open up, Otto, and let’s see if I can’t keep my word.”


	6. Present Memories

Antauri and Jinmay had left the premises, and Captain Shugazoom was left alone in his old best friend’s home. He wandered the place. 

_ I should probably start getting ready, _ Captain Shugazoom thought,  _ just in case I DID get infected.  _ So Captain Shugazoom got to work.

The first thing he did was carefully wind up his long, elegant beard. His impossible beard was one of the few things he actually liked about being this suddenly old - he’d always kept his hair in check for appearances sake in his youth (“his youth.” Bah. He was only 35 years old  _ two months _ ago! When had he started thinking like that? STOLEN youth was more like it), but he rather liked the wild mane he sported now, as bothersome as it was to maintain. It made him feel elegant, enchanting, YOUNG, like he’d become one of the demure and exotic creatures he’d court from time to time. Like an alien princess, or a masculine rebel. 

Once he had his hair under control, he put up the face mask installed in his helmet and walked over to the familiar decontamination booth. Just in case - He wanted to retrieve some things from the fallen portion of the house, and he didn’t want any unfortunate folks getting infected by this. They should probably seal up the building somehow, maybe set up an air lock or something at the kitchen door. 

Once he’d finished sterilizing his suit, he meandered on down the stairwell. Last time he’d gone down these stairs, he’d fallen off the edge. If he hadn’t had the power of flight, he’d have been a pancake in the middle of their old fallen living room! He prepped himself for flight, and jumped off the top of the stairs to the crumpled remains far below.

People had asked him before what flying was like, and it had always been difficult to explain. Flying was... a bit like swimming, a bit like being in space, and a bit like boating, and sometimes a bit like running a marathon. It wan’t effortless, of course, and he’d get tired if he did it for too long, just like any physical activity. 

The Alchemist had once described it as “A control over your personal kinetic energy.” When you jump, there’s a spot just in the middle, where you pause to gather momentum before rushing back down. You can feel it, as a clenching in a small group of muscles just above your abdomen - To one who can fly, you can reverse your gravity in this moment so that momentum carries you away from the earth rather than towards it, and you continue to feel the momentum in your upper body, pulling yourself through the air. Once you’re up there, controlling your momentum, you can use your limbs to steer - He went canoeing once or twice, as Clayton Carrington, and it used much the same instincts as steering in flight. Push against the way you want to go, and you’ll get there.

He let gravity pull on him a little more than he usually would have this time around, pointing a toe towards the earth to draw him down, arms held straight above his head with his open hands palms-out to guide the direction of his decent, his other knee pulled up closer to his chest, against the pull of gravity to prepare his abdominal muscles for the reversing pull in momentum he’d need to land safely on the ground.

When he neared the ground, he drew his arms down like wings, elbows bent, to slow his descent, and loosened his legs to create that reversing pull in momentum. He floated for a bit above the ground before touching down upon it, letting normal gravity take its hold of him again when he knew he was safe from its crushing danger.

Physics. Heh.

He meandered into the Alchemist’s bedroom from the hallway he’d landed in. The intimate grandeur of the place was different now than it had once been, once shadowy lavender hues turned bright and dusty in the sunlight streaming through the nonexistent ceiling. The grand king-sized mattress stood where it always did, though it was broken far beyond repair from the fall, once sturdy wooden pillars cracked and splintered from the weight of the heavy furnature’s fall, and he could see a variety of nests had been built into it, perhaps housing a colony of raccoons or some other form of bizarre wildlife that lived in the forests here. The vanity mirrors were cracked, it’s supplies ravaged. 

Captain Shugazoom shuddered, thankful that the Kitchen and guest room had remained intact - Who could say what would have happened if his potions cabinet had fallen, its contents spread amongst the wildlife here? They were facing dire consequences from just one fallen substance, a full breach would have been catastrophic. 

Never mind all that though - with the master bed unusable, he’d have to find something else to sleep on for the night. 

He wandered over towards the shattered windows and spotted the Alchemist’s old daybed underneath the shards. Captain Shugazoom remembered this old thing fondly - he’d often find the Alchemist lounging here, holding his face in his hand, staring out the window, contemplating the nature of life - sometimes brooding, sometimes with a soft smile on his face, sometimes napping before being startled into consciousness by a prank from his best friend or one of their monkey kids. He’d be startled, but then he’d laugh, his face lighting up in joy, eyes crinkled in fondness. 

He missed him. Captain Shugazoom didn’t think he’d EVER stop missing him, really, but it kept hitting him - memories of happier times, not too long ago, fond, fresh memories that were apparently ancient history now. He really did love the Alchemist - he’d never had the chance to figure out if his feelings towards him were simple platonic affection for a close friend, the romantic longing for someone you wanted to marry and spend your life with, the intimate feelings you had towards a potential lover, or what, but whatever the intention, he really did love that man. His greatest regret now, was... taking his best friend for granted. Not cherishing the time they’d had together.

He swallowed back his sorrow - he’d already cried so much over this loss, mourned so much, over his lost youth, his lost friend, the loss of memories he could never regain - of seeing the monkeys speak their first words, fight their first monster, of teaching them to read and write, of raising the family he’d always wanted with the friend he’d always loved - and tried to regain his focus on the task at hand. 

He swept the glass shards off of the daybed, and carefully inspected it - the frame had been metal, so it wasn’t too damaged from the fall, and the glass had apparently prevented critters from trying to make it their habitat. He finished cleaning off the glass off of the daybed, and sat down on it for a bit.

Seemed comfy enough.

He got up and started to scour the room for more supplies. He kept some spare overnight stuff here - the toothpaste and stuff would no doubt be expired, but Antauri was going shopping for essentials like that anyhow. He grabbed some old clothes that he always kept around here, some bars of soap and books, and a variety of other supplies that were still in good condition and would potentially be useful in quarantine, and tossed them onto the daybed. 

Now for the real good stuff. 

He went into the secret room. It would look like nothing more than an extra entertainment room to an outsider looking down, but Captain Shugazoom knew better - this was the Alchemist’s grownup room, the one that he had convinced the Alchemist to make when he’d first started helping him move in. There were secret compartments for bottles of wine, adult cinema and literature, and toys of all sorts. Captain Shugazoom had fond memories of this place, laughing with a flushed Alchemist, playing drinking games and truth-or-dare like high schoolers or college kids. This was where they’d host the traditional post-valentines dildo party (that was always a hoot - he still didn’t know how Mandy had made those vagina-shaped pastries, but they were delicious with melted cheese and marinara sauce) or Howard and Cassandra’s Bachelor/ette party. They’d gleefully danced on the stripper poles, laughed at the bad acting in various pornos, and overall just had a grand old time. 

Unfortunately, the wine bottles had mostly shattered, the stripper poles still attached to the ceiling up on the house, the televisions shattered and the wooden walls splintered. The once-vibrant, elegant, shameless room was nothing more than a depressing wreck now. But there were still some salvageable items here and there - he grabbed some literature and a few different toys, some of which so ridiculous that they were mostly just displayed for novelty’s sake, but that he might find some use for if he WAS infected. (Even if he wasn’t, he’d always jokingly wanted to try them out, and it wasn’t like the Alchemist was here to stop him, so... YOLO)

He piled the rest of his scavenged finds on the daybed, covered it in a blanket to help keep in all from falling off, and carefully hoisted it up, wobbling a little bit under the weight despite his super strength. It was going to be a bit difficult to get everything up, but he eyed the distance - about 40 feet or so - and figured he could make it. 

He bended his knees, and hopped up, up, and away.

  
  


By the time he got back inside, Antauri was carrying some supplies of his own down the stairs. 

“Need a hand, Silver?” He asked, setting the daybed of stuff down on the landing. Antauri shrugged.

“I’m quite alright. Just getting some groceries and things to Otto and Gibson. I left your supplies in the hall - I didn’t quite know where you wanted to stay, but I figured we should at least keep you contained for at least 24 hours to know for sure.”

“I don’t know about that - I still don’t think I’ve got it, but it won’t take a whole day to know one way or another.”

“Regardless. It’s best for everyone’s safety for you to stay put in the meantime. Speaking of, what do you have there?”

“Oh, nothing much, just some stuff from Alchie’s old room. Mostly clothes and whatnot. Figured I’d probably have to stay the night.”

“Hm.”

“You made sure to get them condoms and lube and water and stuff, right?”

“Otto said he keeps some contraceptives on him at all times just in case, but I made sure to get them plenty more too. I... didn’t know what kind to get, so I made sure to get a little of everything. SPRX and Nova helped.”

The Captain tried to keep himself from laughing at that. “That must have been quite a shopping trip!”

“We... did get some very strange looks from civilians. SPRX and Nova got into an argument - apparently, they disagree on proper methods of intercourse.”

“Well, I should hope they agree sometimes, or else it wouldn’t be a very stable sex life.”

“They apparently have yet to go that far in their relationship.”

Oh. “Oh.”

“Indeed.”

They stood there in awkward silence for a little bit, until they were startled from their lack of conversation by the sounds of... well. 

“Gibson, Gibson PLEASE -“

“QUIET, Otto, I’m TRYING to -“

The sound of wood hitting wood, only barely muffled screams of pleasure, and various animalistic noises were coming from the direction of the kitchen.

The sounds of their teammates having very, very loud sex. 

The Alchemist coughed and shuffled his feet. “Heh. Guess they finally snapped.”

“... I still need to get them their supplies.”

“YES, Gibson, GIBSON, GIBSOOON...! there, right there, THERE THERE THERE -“

“I’m THERE, you gluttonous buffoon, I’m -“ a very loud groan - “Oh, OTTO, That’s - OTTO!!!“

They were still going at it.

“... Okay, so here’s what we’ll do. We fly over the gap, and I’ll check the window to see if they’re in the kitchen or just the lab - my eyes aren’t what they used to be, so I won’t be scarred for life, but I can still figure out if anyone’s in there or not. When I give the all-clear, you slip the supplies through with your ghostly powers. Got it?”

“That sounds like a plausible solution.”

More crashing noises.

“GIBSOOOOOOONNNNNNN!!!”

“Otto, Otto, OTTO, I -!”

“DON’T STOP, DOn- YES, YES YES  _ YES _ -“

“We’ve gotta hurry.”

“Agreed.”

Thankfully, they WEREN’T in the kitchen, so the supplies got in without hassle.

  
  


The two of them rushed up the stairs as quickly as possible, and Captain Shugazoom leaned over to catch his breath while Antauri waited patiently.  


Captain Shugazoom gave him a funny look.

“Must be nice, bein’ a robot and all. Don’t gotta... worry ‘bout gettin tired or nothin.”

Antauri gave him an odd look in return. “I suppose it does have its advantages.”

“Can you even feel anything in there? I don’t know much ‘bout robotics, but I don’t recall the silver monkey havin any o’ those synthetic nerve extender doo-dads that the rest of the weapon-y arms had.”

“Well, I... suppose I no longer have any nerves to extend, really. I do still feel  _ pain _ for some reason, and I have regained some sensory awareness of others via the power primate, and Otto, Nova, SPRX and Gibson had been working together on helping me regain my better senses via technological upgrades and specialized training. But...”

“But it still ain’t quite the same, is it?”

“No. It’s not.”

“Well, what about that mind-melding thingy you do? Can ya feel things through that?”

“I don’t tend to enjoy using that ability. It’s... invasive, and people don’t like someone else digging around in their minds. They tend to try ejecting unwelcome intruders, and rightfully so. It tends to end in pain for all parties involved.”

“Well, have you ever tried doing that with a willing volunteer...?”

Antauri quirked an eyebrow. “I’m afraid I am not seeking any “willing volunteers” for this, Captain. I do not enjoy doing it, and besides which, your reason for volunteering for such a tryst is no doubt your possible exposure to the aphrodisiac.”

“Hey, I’ve done weirder.”

Antauri felt a small shiver of disgust flow through his mechanical body.

“I might not remember it very well, but I am CERTAIN that  _ you _ remember being here to help raise me and my team alongside the Alchemist. I might have a completely different body and a fully matured mind, but I am still, at least to some extent,  _ your kin _ . I will forgive you for the slip up just this once - due to the jarring nature of your decades-long coma, and the fact that you do not have full control over your...  _ libido _ in your current condition, but I must ask you NOT to make a pass of that nature at me or  _ any _ of my teammates  _ ever _ again. Is that understood, Captain Shugazoom?”

“... What? I’m not-“

“Your biology would state otherwise.”

The Captain looked down. Sure enough, he was sporting a semi.

“What the  _ fuck?!?!?! _ ”


	7. In which Gibson and Otto are ADHD/Autism Solidarity. Also they fuck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can have the smut chapter a _little_ early. As a treat
> 
> Warning: this chapter contains themes of mental illness, questionable consent (as is always the case when sex pollen is involved), and anxiety. It’s still hot, but like... be warned.

When Antauri had closed the door on them, Gibson could already feel his brain working into overtime. His reactions, the visceral physical bolts of arousal that had been creeping up on him in reaction to Otto’s presence... they weren’t scientifically caused. Those were HIS feelings, HIS reactions, HIS thoughts and emotions and impulses. If these were the reactions that a simple placebo effect could cause, then... 

Then what would it feel like when the aphrodisiac actually kicked in?

Of course, most common aphrodisiacs are caused by a placebo effect - those that weren’t were mostly used for other recreational purposes, and were classified as anaphrodisiacs as well, considering their effects depended on the person and their individual psychologies and biologies. Things like alcohol and testosterone, usually used for other purposes such as decreasing inhabitants or increasing masculinity, were technically considered aphrodisiacs in scientific fields, considering the nature of aphrodisiacs were less easy to test for than other chemical classifiers. Gibson wondered what the nature of this aphrodisiac was, that it would take so long to kick in and wouldn’t wear off without an antidote - if it was testosterone based, Otto might have a clearer head through all this than Gibson himself, since he was used to taking testosterone on a regular basis anyway as part of his gender therapy. 

The thought of OTTO being the more productive of them was something that Gibson wasn’t sure he’d know how to handle. Gibson  _ hated _ having decreased brain functions. 

Gibson buried himself in his work, and was able to get further along than he expected - it was enjoyable work, the kind that engaged his mental facilities and kept his interest, especially with the numerous tools at his disposal in this laboratory. He had already finished up with the dissertation to Suppa about the water crisis, and had set it aside to edit later as he worked, and started fiddling with the pollen itself, trying to figure out how it worked.

He found out a few things about this sex pollen, and started taking notes:

_ -white pollen turns yellow in vacuum _

_ -yellow pollen turns white after 1/5 microunit _

_ -white pollen dissolves in fluid _

_ -yellow pollen remains active in fluid  _

_ (accesses blood stream via respiratory system?) _

_ -yellow pollen proliferates in fluid @ rate of 1 microspek per hour - would take 3 hours to make full particle  _

_ -pollen contains testosterone, cortisol, estradiol, +TRACE AMOUNTS OF ALCOHOL  _

_ (might react negatively to stimulants?) _

_ -Depressant + Stimulant = DANGER!!! (ask Suppa if I should stop taking meds???) _

_ -pollen has inert magnetic properties. (Could perhaps be drawn out in certain conditions?) - Ask SPRX _

Gibson could feel the Aphrodasiac’s effects, and realized what this was with crushing sense of deja vu. He numbly started writing down the effects.  _ For science. _

_ -ADHD-like symptoms, might be caused by blocking inhabitants/meds w/ alcohol content???  _

_ -Increased arousal, loss of brain function, loss of inhabitants.  _

_ -I can’t believe I’m like this again. I spent so much time fixing my brain, for what? Some... APHRODISIAC to screw it all up again????  _

_ -This is why they left you. You’re useless like this. _

Those first few years when Antauri, Nova, and Mandarin had been away in space to train with specialized masters while Otto, Gibson and SPRX were stuck on Shugazoom flickered before Gibson’s mind. Back when he’d been... fuzzy, listless, unaware, researching whatever caught his fancy for hours on end because nothing could ever capture his attention for long. He wasn’t  _ aware _ of anything, and he couldn’t get his brain to stop wandering long enough to be useful at all, not even for something as simple as a fight. Of course, he still WANTED to be useful, and did his best to be of assistance when he could - if only to make up for what he could not do on his own.

The discovery that his own brain’s chemical imbalances were the source of this dysfunction was a wake-up call. He’d spent years teaching himself neurochemistry and pharmacology so that he could treat his own disorder, fueled at first by bursts of caffeine and later by other, more precise stimulants. It took him ages to find the right treatment for his condition, trying to find a balance between the static-y mental fuzziness of an underdose and the terrible, constant single-minded hyperfocus of an overdose. But eventually, after three  _ grueling _ years of research and experimentation, his work paid off! He could finally, FINALLY  _ THINK _ , finally FUNCTION, for an ENTIRE DAY!!! Gibson had unlocked his brain’s hidden potential and transformed himself from a debilitating hindrance to an invaluable asset for his team, and it felt INCREDIBLE.

He never wanted to go back to being useless like that ever again. It was his greatest fear - that one day, his treatment would stop working, and he’d be nothing but a bumbling fool all over again. Trapped in that dreaded fog, too slow and scatterbrained to help his team when they needed him. 

What if this...  _ aphrodisiac _ , of all things... could take that control away from him? Could block the neurotransmitters that facilitated his treatment, or worse, could poison him in a way no  _ normal _ creature would be??? He could already feel it, that horrendous, tangible fog, dragging his attention away from his important research, the long academic articles getting blurred and jumbled before his very eyes, as his brain refused to process the information before him. 

Gibson snapped himself back to reality, and realized that an  _ entire hour  _ had passed without his knowledge.

_ -Otto is distracting me! Smells different, possible increase in pheromone production. Do monkeys produce pheromones naturally???  _

_ -Research on monkey pheromone production proven ineffective. Human “science” on subject muddled, ACTUAL academic papers remain illegible in current state. _

_ -He keeps making noises. _

“Otto, could you PLEASE be QUIET? I’m TRYING to FOCUS.”

* * *

One thing led to another. Otto made a suggestion, and Gibson latched onto it - he had no idea if his decision was being lead by his arousal at the idea, his need to regain control of this blasted situation, or his need to let someone else’s desires guide his actions so that he could be useful again in some capacity. Either way, after tying Otto up, getting distracted by a PHENOMENAL scientific discovery (that his mind was far too scrambled to fully explore at the moment), some sloppy, electrifying makeout sessions and some awkward dirty talk to try and get Otto to tell him what to do without being too obvious about the fact he had no IDEA what he was doing, Gibson found himself rummaging through Otto’s suitably cluttered headspace for the condoms and lube hidden in the back. 

“You  _ really _ need to organize this better,” Gibson scolded, taking out odds and ends to find his prize. Otto shrugged, squirming in a really  _ delicious _ way, and Gibson smirked fondly. As frustrating as his decreased mental capacity was, he... enjoyed teasing Otto like this. Watching him shutter and squirm and moan was as dizzying as it was intensely fascinating, and he could feel himself falling... not in LOVE, per say, but in hyperfocus at the very least. Otto captured his attention in a way nothing else could at the moment, and Gibson loved it. Wanted more of it, wanted to give him the pleasure they both craved. 

Gibson found the supplies, and carefully drew out his prizes - a roll of condoms and a medium-sized bottle of water-based lubricant.

Gibson hiked Otto’s bound feet up around his hips, and Otto locked his knees onto his waist, holding himself up by the bonds which hung him from the top bar and the strength of Gibson’s body. 

Gibson’s hand ghosted down across the short hairs on Otto’s stomach, and Otto responded with a full-body shiver. Gibson chuckled, head pressed against Otto’s chest as he looked down between them, his hand inching towards Otto’s pelvic plate.

Gibson looked up into Otto’s eyes.

“May I...?”

“ _ Please _ .”

Gibson traced the metal of his partner’s protective pelvic plate, until he found the latch that held it in place. He undid the latch with a soft click, and the metal split, automatically rolling back up into the spools located close to their hip bones. 

Otto gasped, head thrown back in passion, and his erection bobbed forward, finally free of its metal prison. Otto’s penis was about two, maybe three inches long, an impressive length considering the fact that it had grown from a mere clitoros with the aid of nothing but time and hormones - but thick and eager, and Gibson almost started drooling at the sight of it. Or maybe he was drooling already and just wasn’t aware of it- it was getting harder and harder to think.

Gibson could feel his head fogging up even more, but... for once, he wasn’t sure if he cared. He reached down to unlatch his own pelvic plate, and hissed as his own erection bobbed free, crashing into Otto’s. They both moaned at the sensation, and Gibson latched onto Otto’s shoulders, trying to keep himself from falling as his knees trembled from the sensations. They couldn’t keep themselves from rutting up into one another, trading friction and heat and blissful, mind-boggling waves of pleasure. 

Suddenly they were kissing again, then just panting against each other’s lips, sharing electric breath and beautiful friction, just feeling each other as instincts overcame common sense. 

Otto moaned against him again, and panted pleas into Gibson’s ear.

“Gibson... Gibson, please, I want... I want you...  _ inside _ ...” he squirmed again, bucked up enough to make Gibson’s length slip out of their mutual frottage and back against the rest of his genitals. Warm, wet heat slid against Gibson’s length, and Otto bucked forward again to push his backside against Gibson’s tip. 

They both groaned at the sensation, and Gibson decided right then and there to stop teasing Otto and finally get down to business.

“Yes, yes, just... just a moment, my dear, let me...”

He liberally coated his fingers with lube, inhaling on the fur at the junction of Otto’s neck, and delved in.

Gibson couldn’t help but wonder at how readily Otto took his protrusion - he had only meant to start with the tip of one finger, but Otto’s movements shoved the whole of it inside, and he wiggled it around experimentally as he mewled at the sensation.

Gibson slipped another lube-covered finger in, and started scissoring soon afterwards as Otto continued crying out nonsensical noises of pleasure. Gibson swiftly added a third finger, wriggling them in unison with a wave-like motion, and Otto’s legs tightened around Gibson’s waist, drawing them closer.

Otto moaned, hips rocking them both, pushing his erection forward into Gibson’s stomach, his nether regions down to slide a small trickle of humid heat onto his shaft, and his arse back into Gibson’s fingers. It was a beautiful, brilliant torture for the both of them, and Gibson started mumbling into the fur of Otto’s shoulder, right next to his com receptor.

“You’re just about ready for me, aren’t you?” Otto could only sob in response.

“Please, please, please, please, please...”

“Ho-hold on, Otto my dear, I just have to -“

Gibson removed his fingers from Otto’s backside to tear at the wrapper on one of the condoms, and Otto’s pleas grew exponentially in volume.

“Gibson, Gibson PLEASE-“

“QUIET, Otto, I’m TRYING to- “

Gibson finally ripped the blasted wrapper open and rolled the condom down his length, spilled more of the lube onto himself, then dropped the bottle so he could grip Otto’s buttocks, spreading the cheeks.

“Aaaaa,  _ Gibson _ ...”

“Shh, shhhh, I’m almost there, just-“

Gibson brushed the tip of his length to Otto’s anal cavity, and Otto  _ moaned _ .

“YES, Gibson, GIBSON, GIBSOOON...! there, right there, THERE THERE THERE -“

“I’m THERE, you gluttonous buffoon, I’m -“ Otto slammed his backside halfway onto Gibson’s length, and this time Gibson was the one who cried out, and groaned loud enough to rival Otto’s cries of pleasure, as warm, wet,  _ tight heat  _ surrounded him. “Oh, Otto, that’s -“ Otto started to MOVE, and Gibson could feel Otto’s  _ pulse _ around him it was so tight, as the rest of his penis was suddenly engulfed with tight, sucking, glorious, “OTTO!!!”

Otto moaned in response, and started bouncing himself on Gibson’s length, his head back, mouth open and drooling, eyes happily scrunched up as he pleasured himself on Gibson’s length, milking him, making him see stars. 

“GIBSOOOOOOONNNNNNN!!!”

Gibson started moving in tandem with his companion, mindlessly pushing himself up into Otto’s anal cavity, only able to chant his partner’s name. 

“Otto, Otto, OTTO, I -!”

“DON’T STOP, DOn-“ Gibson Pushed up more forcefully, slipping into a different angle, and Otto reacted  _ remarkably _ . “YES, YES YES YES -“

Gibson pulled his left hand back around to where Otto’s length was weeping against his stomach, and latched their mouths together in a blinding kiss as he grabbed hold of Otto’s erection, pumping him in time with their movements, fucking up into Otto’s anus hard and deep, the way they  _ both _ needed it. 

Sparks flew, and it became impossible for Gibson’s scrambled mind to tell whose body was whose anymore, where Otto ended and Gibson began, and they just became one mindless, undulating, electric, ALIVE being, caught in their own pleasure and instincts until they burst. 

They cried as one against each other’s lips, screams of beautiful pleasure filling the space as they came in a white-hot lightning bolt of pure, blissful sensation. 

They gasped in tandem as they came down from the high of their mutual orgasm, the intensity of their pleasure fading into a warm afterglow. Otto sighed and leaned back against the bonds, shivering.

Gibson opened his eyes, staring at his wrecked companion. Tied and bound and entirely spent.  _ Is he satisfied, or taken advantage of? _

Common sense came back to him as awareness flooded Gibson’s mind. Their lab was a wreck, odds and ends tossed everywhere, the open bottle of lube spilling on the ground where Gibson had carelessly dropped it, condoms scattered everywhere, and a box of supplies sat innocently in the other room beyond the slightly opened Laboratory doors to the kitchen. The supplies that he had politely asked Antauri to acquire for them just a few hours earlier, so that they didn’t starve or hurt themselves through all this. When he’d promised they wouldn’t get carried away in his absence. How could he have forgotten his own common sense so easily...?

“What have I done...?”

“Gibson?”

Gibson looked at Otto, wrecked and bound, his legs still tangled around Gibson’s waist, still holding himself up by his shackles on the overhead bar, Gibson’s deflating member still wedged in his ass. Gibson quickly slipped himself out of his poor partner, and set him down so he wouldn’t fall when he undid the shackles.

“I’m... I’m so, so sorry Otto, I... I couldn’t control myself, I couldn’t  _ think _ , I just...”

“What are you talking about, Gibson? I... I asked you to do this, remember? If I didn’t like what was happening, I would have used my safe word, right?”

“But what if I didn’t notice? What if I... I couldn’t control myself at all, my brain was all  _ scrambled _ , just like that day Mandarin tortured us with our own worst fears, just like those first few years stuck on Shugazoom. I could have Forgotten, Otto, I could have really, really hurt you - I just TORTURED you for god’s sake, I wouldn’t... How could I have done that to you...?”

“Hey, it’s... it’s okay, see? I’m... I’m fine. You didn’t hurt me, Gibson. And even if you had hurt me, it wouldn’t be BAD. I mean, I...”

“How could you SAY that, Otto? I BIT you, I ELECTROCUTED you, I TEASED you and tied you up and probably almost tore your arms right out of your sockets with the way we were..” Gibson took a deep, panicked breath, and shook his head. “I Hurt you. I wasn’t thinking, and I lost control of myself, and I wasn’t paying attention, and I hurt you, all for some...” he shook his head again, curling his arms around his body and bending his knees until he was in a ball on the ground. “This STUPID  _ Pollen _ is DANGEROUS. You couldn’t even shove me away or anything, and I couldn’t do anything to stop myself from taking advantage. How could I have done this to you?”

“Hey, I... I’m okay. See? I... I  _ liked _ what we did, Gibson. I didn’t... I’m sorry, I... I should have asked. It’s okay, we’re.... we’re both a little bit scrambled right now, right...? We’re in the same boat, and I wouldn’t ask you to do anything I didn’t want you to do. I mean... ” Otto shook his head and looked off to the side, rubbing the back of his neck with a newly-freed hand. “I’m sorry, Gibson. I... If anything, I was the one who...” he shook his head and looked down at his friend. “I’m sorry for asking you to do things you didn’t really want to do. I was being horny and dumb and selfish. I should’ve known better. But... what’s done is done, and right now, we gotta take care of ourselves, okay? It’s your first time, and I gotta make sure you weren’t hurt or anything. Okay?”

Gibson took another deep, calming breath, and looked up into Otto’s eyes. They were warm, reassuring, beautiful and innocent.  _ I hurt you _ , Gibson thought.  _ How can you still be so kind and generous after everything I’ve done to you?  _ Gibson didn’t say any of these things though, knowing that Otto would still try to brush it off, would still try to pretend that he actually  _ wanted _ Gibson when they both knew that he was just stuck here with him, trying to make him feel better.  _ We both know you wouldn’t choose me _ , he thought, even as he took Otto’s outstretched hand and hoisted himself up.  _ We both know you don’t actually want me _ , as Otto guided him towards the bathroom,  _ You could have anyone in the world. You’re strong and kind and intelligent and noble, not to mention the most attractive out of all of us. You could have anyone you want, anyone in the world. You only let me do this to you because you didn’t have a choice, but to enable my darkest desires.  _

“I’m gonna let you use the restroom first. Make sure you tie up the condom before you toss it, and pee before you leave so that you don’t accidentally trap any bacteria in there, okay?”

_ How could I have done this to you? How could I have trapped us here, with no choice but to pleasure one another until our minds are clear enough to fix this situation, and free us from this curse? _

But he didn’t say any of that. He only nodded, and said “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I have ADHD. In the absence of actual scientifically proven aphrodisiacs, I have decided that the symptoms of this Sex Pollen look a lot like the symptoms of ADHD. I have also decided that Gibson has ADHD too because I vibe with him and that one Face your Fears episode was just an ADHD MOOD.


	8. Dinner Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly just fluff this time! Disclaimers: I have ADHD and I'm a vegetarian. PS: Get ready for an ILLUSTRATION!!! :D

Gibson turned the faucet, and clean, clear water poured out. He was thankful, if not surprised by how quickly their allies had been able to resolve this part of the water crisis. There was still the problem of having to find a way to clean up Shugazoom’s oceans, and of having to cure the medical problems caused by poison and environmental displacement of the aquatic life, but at least everyone had access to clean, drinkable water again. _The Alchemist’s technology is astoundingly helpful,_ thought Gibson: _Ironic, that it would be used to fix a problem he himself created._

He’d have to thank Otto for that. ... _that is, if I can bring myself to face him after what we did._

_Would this ruin our friendship?_ Gibson wondered - in theory, this didn’t HAVE to change anything - Otto had described his previous lovers as “fuck buddies,” which while terrifyingly crude, meant he was capable of treating this sort of thing casually. Gibson wasn’t certain if HE could have a “fuck buddy” himself, but he was willing to at least _try it_ for now, if only for his best friend’s sake. 

It had taken him a while to calm down from the anxiety attack - _not an anxiety attack_ , Gibson reminded himself. Gibson wasn’t sure if he did or did not have genuine _medical_ anxiety, but he knew that it became worse when he tried to use anxiety medications during those initial years of research and experimentation. It was nothing more than a mere caveat of his ADHD, but it _felt_ like an attack whenever it happened to him. That crushing feeling of intense worry that punched him right in the diaphragm, leaving an empty, hollow, mildew-y feeling hole right in the center of his chest, making it difficult to breathe, move, or think until it passed and allowed him to move on, even as the feeling festered in what could only be his soul. The feeling that came with the idea of not being enough, of screwing up somehow and disappointing, FAILING everyone around him. The feeling that led him to declare his own ideas impossible before they could even be attempted, that led to him only ever sticking to the easiest route of fate until he was pushed to the very brink and forced to toss aside his common sense and do something reckless, the feeling that made him cautious, pragmatic, skeptical. The feeling that made him a _coward_.

“Rejection sensitivity dysphoria,” the medical articles had called it. A core symptom of his condition, that refused to disappear entirely, even with medical treatment. 

He’d known a few other people who shared his condition. Not that he purposefully sought people with his condition, but like minded people tend to flock together, and many of his very closest friends and allies turned out to have ADHD (or some variant) as well. Chiro, Suppa, even Prometheus (as much as that hurt to think about). It had driven a large chunk of his peers to cutting ties with their home lives completely, seeking the freedom that came without the burden of this fear. If his presence wasn’t so essential to the survival of his team, to the safety of the universe, and the fate that had been bestowed upon him... Gibson wasn’t sure what he would have done. He might have tried to flee himself, if he weren’t bound by fate and love and other such forces that he couldn’t begin to comprehend. There was comfort in having a destiny bestowed upon him, chosen for him, so that he would not have to decide a path for himself. It was the decisions that truly terrified him. What if he made the wrong choice? What if he made a mistake, one that put his family, his future, or even the universe itself in jeopardy? 

What if, in his recklessness, he hurt the people he loved? 

What if he’d hurt _Otto_?

Gibson HATED that thought. He’d always been the sort to go with the flow, to an extent. He followed the path carved before him, let himself be guided by rules in the absence of the ability to understand that bizarre, invisible language filled with unspoken rules and signals that everyone else seemed to share. Personal space bubbles, the right time to enter a conversation, the ability to tell when you’re making someone uncomfortable, the ability to tell when you offend someone or what someone expects from you without them telling you. Bizarre, invisible little rules that came naturally to everyone else in society, that he had had to rigorously study and learn to mimic so that he can navigate the universe successfully. 

Rules Mandarin had helped hammer into him, training him on patrols, making every social interaction a test, so that he’d actually pay attention to the world around him. As cruel as it might seem to outsiders, Gibson was, on some level, _glad_ that Mandarin had taken the time to teach him these things. To teach him to understand the language that everyone else could understand _._

_Everyone but Otto, anyway_. 

Otto... never followed any rules, and he never understood the rules he’d broken. Mandarin had dragged Otto into their “social training” outings, too. He was one of the few people who could withstand Mandarin’s temper, who had the cluelessness and patience to not recognize his cruelty when it surfaced, and Mandarin had been worn down by that. Mandarin had spent the bulk of his time with Antauri at first, deeming the rest of the team “unenlightened fools” and therefore somehow _unworthy_ of his respect, but Otto was innocent, childish, and clueless enough that Mandarin let his guard down around him, praised him for every little accomplishment like a caretaker bestowing praise upon a toddler. Became his... _favorite_ . It always made Gibson jealous, though he knew not for whom. Was he jealous of Otto, for gaining their leader’s trust and patience so easily? Or was he jealous of Mandarin, for commanding the attention of one of his closest (and only, at the time) friends? Mandarin had called Otto his “greatest ally,” once, in the heat of their last battle, and Gibson couldn’t help the sliver of possessive jealousy that crept into his heart at that. Mandarin didn’t DESERVE Otto. Mandarin always, ALWAYS belittled Otto, treating him less like a colleague and more like a _child_ or a _lackey_ . Otto didn’t DESERVE that. Otto was INTELLIGENT, incredible, _creative_ , BRAVE. Chivalrous, in his own way, and the single best partner Gibson could ask for. 

Gibson knew the hypocrisy of these thoughts. It had taken him years to respect Otto. To stop being jealous, to stop projecting his own problems onto his companion, and start respecting him as an equal, a colleague, a partner, a friend. To see Otto for who he really is, not just who he thought he was.

“Um... alright if I come in yet?”

Gibson jumped, and looked up in the mirror. He could see Otto behind him, holding the door open a crack with his hand (adorably) covering his eyes to protect Gibson’s modesty. Gibson huffed, glad Otto couldn’t see his creeping smile.

“Oh, I suppose, but I would like an explanation.”

“Well, I uhhh, heard the toilet flush, and I sorta need to go potty too.”

“Can’t you hold it? I’m having an existential crisis here.”

“I would, but that’s not a good idea! You gotta pee after sex, Gibson, it’s like, sex rule number three.”

“Number three? What on earth are rules one and two then?”

“Sex rule number one! Always respect your partner! This includes the rules of consent, like safe words and stuff, and being honest about risks and stuff. Sex rule number two: always use plenty of lube.”

“Are there more sex rules?”

“Of course! Rule number four is condoms, but it’s only that low because sometimes people want babies and stuff. Or, maybe that’s rule five? Cuz staying hydrated is pretty important too.”

“And why is peeing after sex rule number three?”

“It’s just the rules! Like, you gotta do that even after you mastrubate. You don’t wanna get infections or bacteria or anything, so it’s good to flush all the gunk out whenever you do it.”

With that, Otto marched in and sat down on the toilet. Gibson avoided looking in his direction, but it wasn’t actually all that awkward to share the space. There was only so much modesty you could have after living with someone for a long enough period of time, and the Super Robot had a limited number of bathrooms. Besides, it’s not like Otto _peeing_ next to him was going to turn Gibson on. _Even if they did just have sex. Even if Otto knows far more about having sex than you thought he would._

“How on earth do you have so much experience with this sort of thing, anyhow? It’s not like we could communicate with anyone on Shuggazoom for the bulk of our lives... unless you did it with one of the Sun Riders.” Gibson paused, his hand hovering over the faucet. “... _Did_ you do it with one of the Sun Riders???”

“I mean...”

“Oh my SHUGGAZOOM you DID do it with one of the sun riders, didn’t you???”

“... Well, I wouldn’t call it DOING IT doing it, but maybe just some light stuff...? Besides which, I could communicate with SOME of the people in Shuggazoom, sign language DOES exist, and Kringle wasn’t our ONLY fan.”

“Otto, that’s _disgusting_.”

“What! I didn’t do anything! .... much. Honestly, most of my fuck buddies were aliens. We came and went on a lot of space missions, and aliens were more likely to have universal translators and treat me like a consenting adult instead of just a cute little monkey. I mostly used SSL on Shuggazoom to order take out on the video phone, before Chiro showed up.”

“... Oh. Well...” Gibson shut off the faucet, and reached for a hand towel. “I suppose that makes some amount of sense. Do I... know anyone you’ve had these sorts of relations with, or...?”

“Well, there was this one time when some of the robo apes and I-“

“Never mind, I don’t want to know!”

That was a lie. Gibson _did_ want to know, but he _also_ wanted to keep his wits about him for at least a _little_ bit longer, _thank you very much_. He hoped his blush wasn’t too obvious, and if it was, Otto (thankfully) didn’t comment on it.

Gibson couldn’t tell anymore if his arousal was natural or a byproduct of the sex pollen, but he wasn’t experiencing any of the other symptoms from earlier, so it was probably just... himself.

He heard a flush, and the zipper-like sound of Otto unraveling his Pelvic Plate before the metallic _click_ of the latch securing it back into place. He sauntered over to the sink, and Gibson leaned away to give him room to use it, which inevitably led to the sort of domestic crowding they were used to. Except it felt... 

More intimate, somehow. 

Gibson cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll just, um... continue to try and find a cure for us, shall I?”

“Uhhh, alright. Make sure you drink a water bottle before you get back to work though! I wasn’t kidding about rule four.”

“What, condoms? We already did that.”

“No, I changed my mind, condoms are rule five. Rule four is staying hydrated.”

“Otto, If you’re going to be the expert in this field, the LEAST you could do is come up with a properly defined set of rules.”

Otto playfully stuck his tongue out at Gibson and snagged the soap. Gibson chuckled and set the hand towel down. 

“Alright. See you later, Otto my dear.”

It was only after he’d exited the restroom that Gibson realized he’d _kissed_ Otto goodbye as he left.

* * *

Otto touched the place where Gibson’s lips had brushed against him with his still-soapy hands. It had been a brief, sweet kiss, just on the corner of his mouth, but. It had been the first time they’d kissed while _not_ in the throes of passion. 

It was just a silly little kiss on the cheek, but it made Otto’s sinking heart _soar_ . He’d NEVER gotten to have casual little gestures of affection like this from any of his other fuckbuddies - maybe a pat on the back or an affectionate clasp on his shoulder or a fun little parting fist bump, but nothing like that brief, shy, _romantic_ kiss Gibson had given him just now. 

Not that Gibson was anything like anyone else he’d had before. He might be the more experienced of the two, but he wasn’t afraid to admit that he’d always had a crush on Gibson. For longer than he could remember, he wanted to impress his little blue buddy, a desire which quickly grew into yearning which subsequently became pining, and eventually fell into a sort of resigned background noise of his life. A constant attraction, the everpresent longing for Gibson, Gibson’s attention, Gibson’s respect, Gibson’s acknowledgement, Gibson’s love. He knew he wanted Gibson, but he also knew Gibson didn’t want him back. _Not until now, anyway_ . And he’d respected that. _Until he let you guide him_ . He didn’t ever want to jeopardize the relationship they’d built, the mutual trust, respect, and companionship that they’d worked so hard to achieve. _Until he showed you just a hint, that maybe he could find you attractive too, and you tore everything down until he was on your level, asked him to tie you up, begged him to fuck your ass, made him cry when he snapped out of it._

_Except he’d gotten you off too, when you hadn’t even asked for it, clumsy and beautiful and surprising, making you scream into his lips as you both came._

It was, objectively, some of the best sex Otto had ever had. He also knew that, objectively, it was the only sex that Gibson had ever had, and Otto hadn’t really done a very good job of making sure Gibson was 100% okay with everything that was happening before it happened. In fact, Gibson had been very... not okay, with anything, before or after the fact, and that wasn’t.... that wasn’t okay. Otto needed to make it up to him somehow, for both their friendship and for Gibson’s well-being.

_“As if I’d let him! I am NOT going to let my first time be some... drug-induced acrobatic brain scrambler like that! I would at least want to be_ courted _.”_

Otto had failed to prevent their first time from being a “Drug-induced acrobatic Brain scrambler,” but the very least he could do was honor one of Gibson’s other wishes. Gibson wanted to be courted, so Otto was going to do his best to make him the most romantic impromptu quarantine date ever! Dinner by candlelight, music, maybe a game of some sort? Gibson liked chess a lot. Otto personally preferred checkers, but this wasn’t about Otto, this was about _Gibson_. 

He quickly finished washing his hands and shut off the faucet, a fresh hand towel slung across his shoulder. Let courting begin!  
  


* * *

Gibson was able to work for another hour and a half before his brain started drifting again. 

He was tiredly rubbing his temples when he heard a soft knock on the door. He sighed heavily and pushed himself away from his work.

“Yes, Otto, what is it?” He asked, as he hauled the door open.

He was struck by what he saw.

Otto had a rose in his hand, a black bow tie on his neck, and a crooked grin on his face. He presented the rose to Gibson with a flourish. 

“A rose, for Mister Hal Gibson!”

“Oh! Er, thank you, Otto.” He took the flower from his companion, and realized it wasn’t a plant at all, but a delicate metal sculpture. “This is rather extraordinary. How did you make this...?”

Otto flustered, which was a rare sight for Gibson. Otto rarely ever cared enough to get flustered about anything. “Uh, well I uh, I... I used the packaging left over from when I made dinner... You like it...?”

“It’s a beautifully crafted trinket, but why...?”

“Oh, dinner! Er, ahem...” he took a moment to clear his throat and regain his composure, before gesturing to the rest of the room, “welcome, Mister Hal Gibson, to the best night of your life! ... Or, well, maybe not the best, but um, I tried to make it fancy for you anyway...?”

Gibson took a moment to process the rest of the room, and was left breathless. The room was filled with little candles and tea lights sprinkled around everywhere, a trail of them creating a path that led to a table by the big round window which bathed the room in moonlight. Underneath the window was a small, round table, adorned with a pristine white cloth, some candles, crystal glasses, and two silver domes that presumably covered their meals. Gibson could hear a piano and several violins playing one of his favorite songs, a classical piece from Shugazoom’s renaissance era. 

Otto offered his hand. “May I?”

Gibson took the hand, so charmed and surprised that he could not find it in himself to refuse. Otto’s hand was warm and gentle, as he guided Gibson along the candle-lit path to their table.

“Otto, what is all this?”

“A dinner date! I mean, it uh... it doesn’t HAVE to be a _date_ date if you don’t want it to be, but you said you wanted to be courted before your first time.” Otto looked down, his warm obsidian eyes flickering in the candlelight as he avoided his gaze. “I know I kind of messed that up, so I wanted to make it up to you.”

“Otto, that’s...” _thoughtful. Charming. Incredible. Gentlemanly._ “... so sweet. Thank you.”

Otto's eyes finally met his own, with a small, warm grin.

Gibson couldn’t help smiling back, and gripped his hand just a little bit tighter.

* * *

Otto was so, _so_ glad Gibson liked his surprise. They could both use a break from all of this, and he wanted to make Gibson feel special. Gibson deserved to feel special - and loved and wanted and taken care of, so that he wouldn’t have to worry so much. 

And, there was that devious, hopeful little fire in his heart that wanted Gibson to enjoy spending time with him. That little smile - the pressure of Gibson’s hand in his own, their forearms pressed against one another, and the warmth of his eyes, reassured Otto. Gave him hope that maybe - just maybe - they could make this work. Make something REAL together. 

Otto guided Gibson to his seat - he’d made monkey-sized furniture with some of the smaller, lighter pots he’d found and some leftover wood, softening them with materials from the linens closet (he’d made sure the candles were properly spaced out so that nothing would catch on fire, and the tags on the fabrics said they were fire-resistant anyhow) - and revealed their plates of food with a flourish, sending trapped steam up into the air. Gibson gasped.

“Is that...?”

“Brain Food! Or, uh, a version of it anyway. Antauri didn’t get us ANY meat, so I had to get a little creative...?”

Brain food was Gibson’s absolute favorite meal. Usually it was made with grilled shuggafish as the main course, but Otto had to make do with _Tofu_ . He’d done his best to make it good anyway - cutting the tofu into thin slices and pressing them with as much weight as he could, trying to compress them as much as possible to make the soy cubes _firm_ so they’d turn out _crispy_ instead of gross and squishy. 

“Do you think this is Antauri’s way of teasing you for your safe word?”

“He doesn’t even _have_ to eat anymore! The least he could have done was give us some actual _protein_.”

“Well, soy is also very good for the brain, though not as much as shuggafish would have been...”

Otto sighed. Gibson smirked.

“At least he’s not _vegan_.”

“What’s a... _vegan?_ ”

“Someone who refuses to use any animal products at all. No eggs or dairy, no honey or wool, no leather or -“

“Why would people DO that???”

Gibson shrugged. “Mostly moral reasons, I suppose, though there are those who do so for their own health.”

“Okay, but... WOOL???”

“There are those who think it harms the sheep.”

“That’s so STUPID!”

“Yes, well - I’m afraid that not everyone is as intelligent as you, Otto my dear.”

Otto stopped short, staring slack-jawed at Gibson. _Did he just call me... intelligent?_ Gibson smirked, and took a bite of his meal. He immediately moaned in appreciation, his body going slack in a way that made Otto wonder exactly how much time this sex pollen stuff gave them between rounds. His head _felt_ perfectly clear, but Gibson’s reaction to his cooking was doing... _things_.

“Goodness gracious, Otto, this is _scrumptious_!”

“Really? You... you like it?”

Gibson rapidly nodded his head, taking his time to chew and swallow the bite in his mouth before continuing to talk. “Sure, the texture’s a bit more dry and crumbly than the usual version of this dish, but the FLAVORS...! You really must try this, Otto!”

And then Otto had a forkful of _tofu_ eagerly thrust into his face. “Er... that’s okay, Gibson, I’m good...” He turned back to his own dish - a small serving of spaghetti. It’s not that Otto didn’t like the Brain Food Special - he’d made it up himself, after all. Rice and fish and vegetables, with blueberries and almonds to top it all off - all the best vitamins, fats, and proteins to keep a brain in tip-top shape! - but he just... didn’t _like_ tofu. It was a texture thing more than anything, same reason why he couldn’t _stand_ mushrooms - too squishy and moist and rubbery, in all the wrong places. 

“But Otto, you did _such_ a good job - the flavor is positively DIVINE! Just try a little bit, it’s so delicious...”

“Vegetarian!”

Everything stopped. Gibson blinked, then slowly returned to his own seat. Otto breathed a sigh of relief. 

“I’m sorry, I -“

They both stopped talking and stared at each other, having both said the exact same thing at the exact same time.

“I’m -“

“No, it’s okay, you go ahead -“

“Nonsense, I should let you -“

“No, it’s fine I can -“

They didn’t know who started giggling, but suddenly they were both laughing, and neither of them knew how to stop. 

“Of all the times for that _particular_ safeword to pop up...!”

Otto snorted. “It was almost inevitable! I really, _really_ hate tofu!”

“Oh, I know you do, Otto my dear, but this is so delicious! It’s barely like tofu at all, it’s crispy and delicious and I just wanted to share...!”

“Nah, I get it, my cooking’s the best. I’m glad you like it so much!”

“Haaaaaaaah. Well, I’ll do my best to try and respect your culinary preferences from now on, deal?”

“Deal.”

They resolutely shook hands. Someone’s stomach growled. They burst into giggles all over again.

“Okay, let’s - let’s actually try to eat something this time, shall we?”

“O - hoho, okay, yeah, let’s grab some grub.”

* * *

The rest of the meal went by wonderfully. They had amicable conversation throughout, and Gibson even got to go off on a tangent about science at one point WITHOUT Otto falling asleep on him! His eyes did still glaze over, but there was a goofy grin there as he rested his face in his hands, a patience and a kindness to Otto that Gibson hadn’t realized he’d gained. 

When had Otto become such a gentleman? 

Gibson took another bite of his mostly-devoured meal. It truly was absolutely divine, how the newer textures somehow seemed to _amplify_ the flavors dancing across his taste buds - artisan, really. Then again, Otto always _was_ the artist between the two of them. A brilliant, creative mind to compliment his logical designs, bringing theory to life, and they just...

Clicked.

Oh. Oh _no_.

Otto was his _type_.


	9. Chess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter starts out fluffy, but rapidly devolves into multiple stages of filthy smut. The smut starts pretty much as soon as the game's over.

Captain Shugazoom had himself holed up in the Alchemist’s old private library. It was a narrow, curved room that branched off from the right of the main laboratory, just above the fallen lower floor. One might mistake it for a wide hallway, if it weren’t for the domestic furnishings. This was where he’d found the Alchemist’s old robe, hanging neatly from a lonely hook on the windowless outer wall. This is where he'd found out about his best friend’s death. This is where he, himself, had almost died, been put into a coma by the Skeleton King’s young protege, the Skull Sorceress.

She was a misguided young girl, barely older than Chiro himself at the time. She couldn’t have been older than 19 when she died. So much death and destruction and chaos... His pawn, sacrificed for the revival of their king.

_But she didn’t have to die._

* * *

“Hey, so uhh, I found a chess board while I was putting stuff away and rooting around for candles and things. I was thinking maybe we could play a game after dinner?”

“I thought you preferred Checkers. Less rules to keep track of and whatnot.”

“Well, yeah, but I know how much you like chess. You’re always playing it with Antauri on the Super Robot. I figured maybe... something familiar would be good for us?”

Gibson’s heart skipped a beat. There Otto was, being a _gentleman_ again. The realization that Otto was Gibson’s TYPE - a big, strong, intelligent gentleman, and with a heart of gold to boot - had left him feeling slightly off-kilter. But maybe Otto was right - a good, grounding game of Chess, to engage his higher functions and re-establish his intellectual superiority, might help him calm down.

“Alright,” Gibson said. “Do you remember how to play?”

“Yeah, that starting kit you got me for the holidays really helped! I’ve been playing it a lot in Scrapperton’s weird little tea shop lately.”

The tea shop had been their attempt at curbing Scrapperton’s obsession with collecting things. It had evolved into a sort of bizarre, niche specialty cafe, with huge collections of teas and games and stray pets. It was a huge hit with the college crowd.

“I really should visit that place one of these days.”

“I think you’d really like it there!”

“Hmmmyes. Perhaps we could visit together, for our.... second date?”

Gibson said that last bit hesitantly, but fell into a satisfied smirk when Otto’s face lit up. A scarlet blush was incredibly visible against his bright green fur, even in the atmospheric lighting. _He’s adorable. Why didn’t we do this sooner?_

“Yeah! We could go pet the kitties and play games and drink tea, and ooh, maybe we could even visit the mech shop in the back! It’s like a med bay, but with prosthetics and blueprints and all kindsa neat stuff. Jinmay and the robo apes go there for checkups all the time!”

Gibson smiled at Otto’s enthusiasm. It sounded more like Otto’s specialty, but it’d certainly be entertaining to watch him having so much fun. “Of course, Otto. I’d love to.”

Otto beamed at him, and Gibson felt his heart melt a little bit. _Dear lord, I’m going soft._

“So, do you wanna play black or white?”

Antauri _always_ claimed black. The ability to choose made Gibson’s heart flutter again. “I’d like to play black for once, if that’s alright with you.”

“Of course! I like the white pieces anyway - they’re bright and cheerful, like a smile!” He grinned in example, showing off his pearly white teeth. Gibson lifted a hand to his face, trying (and probably failing) to hide his own smile.

“Alright. Let’s play”

Gibson made the standard first move for a veteran chess player, taking the pawn blocking his queen and moving it two spaces forward from D7 to D5. Otto went next, and - moved a pawn on the leftmost side of the board, from H2 to H4?

Hm. Oh well. Gibson made the second expected move - freeing his king, by moving his second pawn from E7 to E6.

Otto... moved his knight, from B1 to C3? Was... was Otto even attempting to gain control over the center of the board? Did he even know how to play???

Gibson shook his head and moved his queen forward, D8 to D6. Otto... moved his night again, from C3 to D5, snatching Gibson’s pawn... and foolishly putting his knight directly in the path of Gibson’s queen.

Gibson snatched the knight, putting his queen in D5, center of the playing field, giving his queen full advantage over Otto.

Otto moved his other knight - putting it in F3, directly in the path of Gibson’s queen! Gibson took the knight...

And Otto moved one of his pawns to F3, _taking his queen_. The NERVE!

Oh, this would be a FUN game. Gibson moved a pawn to B6, wondering what Otto would do next.

Otto moved a pawn as well - A3 this time. Was he hoping to inhibit Gibson’s reclamation of the queen? Gibson did some quick thinking, and realized he would take Otto’s pawn before that happened. He smirked, and moved his pawn to B5.

A4. Gibson took the pawn triumphantly, taking his place, and -

Was immediately snatched up by Otto’s Rook. How dare he??? Gibson should have realized this ruse - he needed to think ahead, plan his moves in advance, but the fact that Otto was BEATING him - and without even using the proper techniques! - was infuriating him, in a rather delicious way. And the fog was clouding his mind.

Right. No more being defensive. Gibson moved his knight to C6. Otto moved... again with the pawns? To B2. Gibson moved his bishop to E7, to strengthen his king’s defenses.

Otto moved his rook to E4, just out of the reach of Gibson’s knight. This left quite a few of Gibson’s players trapped by rooks on all fronts. He moved a knight to F6. Otto moved his rook to E5. Freedom! He relocated his knight to D4. If he played his cards right, he could jump Otto’s defenses and take the king!

Otto moved a pawn to H5. What? Never matter - Gibson moved his knight to C2 as planned, taking a pawn.

Otto freed the queen, and took his knight.

Oh. Oh, no.

Gibson deliberated over his next move for a very long time, before deciding to move a bishop to D7. Otto’s queen lept forward, taking a pawn. Gibson shuffled his rook over to D8, protecting his king’s flank. Otto - moved a pawn to E3? What was his game? Gibson moved the other rook to F8. Otto’s bishop shot out like lightning to A6, just out of his pawn’s reach! At a loss, Gibson moved his pawn to H6, and waited for Otto’s next move. Otto moved his bishop, to... C8??? Gibson had two options. He could take the bishop with a bishop or a rook, and both would leave his king vulnerable. On the other hand, that might be exactly what Otto wanted... 

he moved a pawn to A6.

Otto’s bishop took Gibson’s bishop on D7.

“Check”

Gibson took Otto’s bishop with the rook. “Not so fast!”

Otto smirked, and slid his queen forward. “Check”

Gibson was on the defensive now, and slid his rook back to D8. Otto took the rook, and Gibson shouted in triumph, sliding his king over to take the queen!

“Take THAT, Otto!”

“Ooh, guess our kings are _both_ single now.”

Gibson blinked. “What?”

Otto just smiled, and moved his king forward before putting his chin in his hand with a flirtatious look. E2. Gibson frowned, puzzled. What was the purpose of _that_? Gibson moved his pawn forward - G6 - which would bait Otto into taking his pawn, leaving it ripe for the picking from his G7 pawn. 

Except Otto didn’t take the bait, and slid his rook forward to H4. What? Gibson took the H5 pawn with his G6 pawn, and Otto - moved his rook to D4???

“Check.”

Oh. Blast.

Gibson moved his king back to E8. Otto moved a pawn to B4. Gibson moved his to A5. Otto took his pawn. Gibson moved a pawn to H4. Otto took his pawn with a rook. Gibson needed to take offensive - he moved his rook to G8. Otto’s rook advanced, taking a pawn! Gibson shot his rook down to G1. Otto moved his bishop to A3, right in the line of fire for his bishop - bait. Two could play at that game. Gibson slid his pawn to H5, and Otto took it with a rook. Too easy, Gibson thought, stealing the rook with a knight, finally freeing it. Otto - the SNEAKY _BASTARD_! - took his bishop on E7! Gibson, growling, took Otto’s E6 rook with a pawn. He tried to ignore the increasing pressure on his pelvic plate, and he could see Otto flushing as well with a wide grin. 

Otto slid his bishop away to D6, next to his pawn. Out of the King’s way, and out of the Rook’s line of fire as well. A stalemate.

Gibson slid his rook up to G2. Otto’s pawn advanced to A6. Gibson moved his knight to F6 - if Otto regained his queen, all would be lost! - Otto moved his pawn again, A7. Gibson loped his knight around to D7. Otto moved his pawn to A8, making it a queen. Gibson moved his knight to B8, to block the queen’s way. Otto’s queen took the knight. Panicked, Gibson moved his king to F7, out of the new Queen’s way. Otto’s queen slid over to C7.

“Check.”

Gibson was on the run, as he slid his king to G6. Otto’s queen slid to C1. “Check.”

Gibson slid his King to H5. Otto moved - a pawn? To F4. Gibson moved his king to G4. Otto moved another pawn to E4, baring his king. What sort of play was this? Gibson moved his rook up to G3, and Otto took it with his F2 pawn. Gibson took the pawn with his king. Otto moved a pawn to F5. “Check.” That blasted Bishop! Gibson moved his king to H3. Otto took his E6 pawn with a pawn of his own. Now all Gibson had left was a king. He had to play this wisely - moving down or to the right would make him vulnerable to Otto’s bishop. He moved the king to G2. Otto moved his pawn to D3. Gibson gritted his teeth, and moved down to H1. Otto moved his queen down to C1. “Check.”

Gibson moved his king to G2. Otto moved his queen up to G5. “Check.” Gibson moved his king to H3. Otto moved his king to F3.

“Checkmate.”

Gibson was surrounded on all sides. Move up, and he was taken by the queen. Move down, and he was susceptible to that darn bishop. Every other direction left him at the mercy of Otto’s king AND his queen, trapped between two royals. The heat flared in Gibson’s face. His mind grew dizzy, as he frantically searched the board for a way to escape. There truly was no way out of this, was there? He was pinned. Outsmarted. Trapped by his best friend - not with energy cuffs or brute force, but _intellectually_. Blood roared in Gibson’s ears, and pulsed down into his cock. He wasn’t aware of his surroundings - of anything but the board and Otto’s playful, absolutely scandalous smirk, as he leaned on one arm against their dinner table. No matter what he did, no matter how clever he tried to be, Otto was always right there to gang up on him. 

Why on earth was that so _hot????_

“Excuse me,” Gibson said. He hurried away from the table by the window, and towards the solitude beyond the bathroom door.

* * *

Captain Shugazoom tossed and turned in the Alchemist’s old daybed.

Why did he miss him so much? Why did he want to fly away, and seek out his old friend’s company? _The Alchemist doesn’t EXIST anymore_ , Captain Shugazoom tried to tell himself. _He died. He’s dead. That monster isn’t him._

_So why do you want him so much?_

The Captain had always had... _unusual_ tastes. He courted the bizarre, the unique and the “monstrous” plenty, as both Captain and Clayton. He proudly identified as pansexual - after all, who CARES about something as silly and obsolete as GENDER, in a universe as unique and diverse as this one? He never thought it mattered, anyway. He only really cared about the chemistry - oh yes, _chemistry_ . Banter and touch and humor and personality, the person one is at the very core of their being and how their very presence can affect YOU. THAT was what truly attracted the Captain to his bedfellows. The push and pull and give and take of another person’s soul against your own. Bodies were attractive of course, but only because of the people that carried them. You can tell a lot about someone, by what they wear, the style of their hair, what they chose to reveal, the colors they bore and the way they carried themselves. The way they _moved_. 

There is nothing attractive about a body on its own. Limp, lifeless dolls and zombified vessels - the formless, for instance - who could ever find attraction to _that_?

* * *

Otto watched Gibson scurry off to the bathroom and slam the door shut behind him.

He stayed rooted to his spot for a good long while. Did Gibson need to pee that desperately? ... no. Otto knew Gibson’s pee-pee dance, and that wasn’t it. He hadn’t been sitting in the chair in all sorts of bizarre manners in an attempt to hold his bladder just a little bit longer in his concentration. There was some squirming, but it was, if anything, made out of attempts to take pressure _off_ of his pelvic region instead of attempts to keep anything in. Maybe he’d been hiding an awkward boner? Or maybe it was something more like emotional constipation. Or maybe... _both_.......??? Somehow?

Whatever the cause, Gibson had been in there far too long for an emergency potty break. Otto was starting to worry about him. _You probably did something wrong_ , a little voice that sounded terrifyingly like Mandarin’s whispered from the back of his head. _He probably hates you now._

There was, unfortunately, a hint of logic there. He’d asked Gibson to play the game in an effort to lift his spirits, only for him to let his partner lose the game. That had to be a crushing blow to his already-fragile mental state. ... _so much for making it up to him_.

Otto cautiously stood from his seat at the little makeshift table and crept over to the bathroom door. He lifted his hand to knock, then hesitated, uncertain of what to do.

“Otto. I know you’re there.”

Drat. “Err...”

“It’s okay. I... I don’t mind you being here.”

Oh. “Then... why’d you run away?”

“I... I’m not certain if I know, to be quite honest. You outsmarted me, beat me at my own game, and I... was a mite overwhelmed, to be quite honest. I didn’t... didn’t want to lose control.”

“Lose... control of what? The game?”

“Of myself.”

Otto sat down, his back against the opaque glass wall of their guest room. “Oh.”

“Otto... did you know that Chess was once a courting ritual?”

“It was?”

A pause. “Yes. In the Victorian era of Shugazoomian history, chess was considered the game of equals. Separating factors, like class and wealth and age and gender, don’t matter to a chess board. It’s a pure meeting of the minds, and one can determine if a potential suitor is worthy of your respect in a game of chess. It’s not just for courtship, of course - rivals would settle scores with chess games to prevent the spilt blood of a dual, for instance. But it was very popular as a courting ritual, especially considering the strict social rules of the time.”

“That’s... really kinda cool.”

“It is, isn’t it? I always thought that was sort of romantic. But I never really felt much of anything playing chess, other than the thrill of a game. That is...” Gibson took a deep breath. “Until I played it with _you_.”

“What made playing with me so different?”

“You’re... unpredictable. You don’t follow the standard motions of a chess game, and yet... still beat me. More than that, you decimated my forces and regained what you’d lost as though that was your plan all along, and left me pinned and helpless to the edge of the board. I wanted to jump you, Otto. I wanted you to...” a shaky sigh, and a whine. “I wanted you to do to me what I had done to you earlier.”

Oh. That was a thought that sent shivers down Otto’s spine. “I, uh... I mean, I wouldn’t _mind_ doing that, if that’s what you want.”

“No. Not... not now. Not with me like this. I can’t... can’t trust myself.”

“Can you... trust me?”

“Yes. I do, Otto, I trust you far more than you can imagine, far more than is reasonable. It’s terrifying, how much I trust you. How much I’d let you do to me, right now.”

* * *

But the Skeleton King. The Skeleton King was another story altogether. The leering drawl of his voice, the dramatic flair with which he gestured, the power he knew he held and the way he spoke - it all made Captain Shugazoom’s heart skip and his lions tighten, the familiarity of his old friend blending and bending into something wilder, less restrained, more _exciting_.

The Captain shivered as he pleasured himself to these thoughts. He, too, was affected by this curse, and the memories that this old foggy feeling brought with it were almost too much to bear. The Alchemist, his mismatched eyes blazing into his very soul, taking what was his with that same exact lack of restraint that the Skeleton King wielded now. The dominance and care, the meticulous precision with which he enacted every move, the frustration with himself as he desperately sought a cure for them in the brief hours they had between rounds. The Alchemist, fighting against this other side of him, this thing which clouded his better judgement and released his inhabitants. So much like the monster he would apparently become years later.

_I wonder if it felt familiar_ , Captain Shugazoom thought, _when he became something else again?_

_I wonder if he’d do it again?_

This was a bad thought. A cruel one, a terrifying one, but for some reason the flash of twisting dread and arousal brought him to completion. His mind cleared in the afterglow, but he knew it wouldn’t last for long. He didn’t have much time, and with a clearer head came mounting doubts. He knew the monkeys were working on a cure, but could they? The Alchemist had been forced to work on this for months, and that was with a fully-equipped laboratory and a flourishing garden and a precise knowledge of the alchemical arts. 

Gibson was certainly a chip off the old block, and the Captain had no doubts that he would one day be able to surpass his old friend’s alchemical abilities. But his knowledge of magic was incredibly limited by his skepticism, and he was trapped with limited resources and no fresh ingredients whatsoever. If the Alchemist had been working from scratch, then Gibson was working from rock bottom.

Realistically speaking, it might take Gibson _years_ to fix this problem.

They couldn’t wait that long.

* * *

A grunt, and a moan. Gibson was... probably still touching himself, beyond the door.

“But I can’t. I’m not myself, and I don’t... I can’t...” a high whine, which trailed on into a low groan. “ _Otto_...”

“We don’t... we don’t have to touch, if you don’t want to. Just... we can just talk, if you want. Okay?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Is it... ummm...” he swallowed. His pelvic plate had become uncomfortably tight, and there was an itch, deep inside himself, that he felt desperate to soothe. But still, he didn’t want to hurt Gibson any more than he’d already been hurt, and he felt the need to ask permission before relieving himself. It was only fair to Gibson. “Is it... alright, if I touch myself?”

He was responded by a deep, throaty groan. “ _Yes_.”

The permission affected Otto far more than he thought it would. He hurried to undo his pelvic plate, and palmed his shaft, his other hand trailing lower to reach inside himself. Usually it was a little too dry to do this down there, but the anticipation (or maybe it was the sex pollen?) had him dripping wet. He buried a few knuckles into himself, and let out a strangled noise, halfway to a cry. Gibson gasped behind the door in response.

“What - ahh... if it’s not too rude to ask...”

“No, please, ask me anything, _Gibson_...”

“What... are you, er, doing to yourself? As of this moment...?”

Otto looked down. “I’m... I’ve got my dick in my hand, and I’m uhh... touching myself too. On the inside.”

Gibson groaned, and there was a soft thumping noise from the other side of the door. “Wh - where? Inside where, Otto?”

“Um...” his hand twisted, two fingers digging themselves directly into his g-spot and a pinky dragging against the still-slightly-lubricated asshole. “Both of them, kind of. Just a bit of pinky in the back, but two in front.” He squirmed, feeling satisfied, a bit awkward, and uncontrollably aroused. “What, uh... what are you doing, Gibson...?”

“Well, I... I found some lubricant in here, Otto, you must have left some on the counter... and I’m, ah... fucking myself on my fingers.”

Oh. _Oh_. His hand squeezed his cock, and he felt breathless. “...Yeah?”

“Yes. I’m... imagining what you would do to me, if I let myself ask you to... _ahhh_ ~”

Otto swallowed, curling the fingers inside himself all the way forward to relieve some more of the pressure, before letting them slip out to slip down and tug on the base of his tail, keening. He let the tip of his tail press against his entrance - not intending to use his own tail as a toy, of course, it was a little too blunt for that, but just to press down on and help anchor himself. “Oh yeah? And... and what do I do to you...?”

“You... you pin me down on the bed, and kiss me on the neck. You bite my shoulder, and whisper sweet nothings into my ear...”

Otto groaned, his teeth briefly biting down on his lower lip, lifting himself into the hand on his dick. “Gibson, _Gibson_...”

“Yes, yes, just -“ a gasp “-just like that, Otto, and you turn me around gently as you do, hold me by the rear...”

“You do have a _really_ good butt.”

“Oh, it’s not _nearly_ as good as yours, you big bubble of muscle...”

“Nah, your butt’s _really_ good. Small and pert and _tight_. Like I could just...”

“Yes, yes go on, tell me Otto, tell me what you would do to me...”

“Kiss it silly. Trail my lips up your back, just around the edges of your jet pack, find all your weak spots, squeeze you - one hand on your butt, the other on your cock, and -“

“Yes, _YES_ , please, Otto, Otto _please_...”

“I’d turn your head around and kiss you. You’re such a _good_ kisser Gibson”

“Not -“ a gasp “- not _nearly_ as good a kisser as you, Otto...”

“Nah, it’s -“ he let the hand that was on his tail trail up to trace his lips, remembering the genuinely _intense_ feeling of their kisses. “I mean, I guess maybe I’m probably more practiced, but like... you’re usually so composed, right? You’ve always got everything all planned out and analyzed. But the way you kiss? It’s the _opposite_ of that. You’re all... passionate and messy and impulsive, and it’s _intense_ . Not just because it’s electric, but like. Because you’re... _you_.”

“Yes, well...” a groan - “I suppose I could say something of the same about you, Otto. I was expecting you to kiss the same way you do everything else - impulsive and reckless and beautifully messy - but in truth, you kiss the way you _think_ , Otto. Clever and skilled, with a strong, sturdy presence, and far more _inventive_ than I’ll ever be.” 

He’d said “inventive” like it was the single most sinful, forbidden, erotic word in the entire dictionary, in a needy and lustful moan that dripped from his lips. Otto pressed his hand more firmly against his mouth, tail thrashing and grip tightening. A blinding flash of pleasure slithered through him, licking up like a hungry fire and leaving him all the more desperate. A groan spilled from his mouth, despite the hand that tried to hide it: was it the sex pollen that made him feel this way, or was Gibson’s presence, his mere _voice_ , just _that_ exciting?

  
  


“Oh, blast it all!” The door handle jiggled, and then to Otto’s surprise swung open. Gibson was leaning against the door jab with one outstretched arm, panting heavily as he stared at his partner with an intensity that shocked Otto into a standstill as his own greedy eyes soaked it all in. His eyes were blown wide, his face flushed red under the downy white fur and his erection hard and leaking against his stomach. Otto found himself frozen, his heart pounding fiercely in his chest.

“Gibson...?”

“ _Otto_.”

Otto swallowed. Gibson leaned closer, and grabbed him by the bow tie.

“Otto, if you don’t take me right this _instant_ , I shall have to do something drastic.”

“Such as...?”

A heavy fog clouded his mind, making everything feel surreal and dreamlike. Time slowed to a standstill, as Gibson melted against him, bringing their lips together like two magnets. Polar opposites, drawn inexplicably towards one another, defying even gravity to be united. There was no electricity this time, no dangerously flowing energy sparkling through him to leave him buzzing and numb: no, this time it was just the two of them. Just Otto and Gibson, kissing desperately, grinding themselves against one another for more of that beautiful friction. They moved like ocean waves, no thought or reason involved at all, just the intoxicated mindless bliss of two animals instinctually finding comfort and relief together.

Gibson parted his lips just far enough to mutter a final demand against his own. “You. Inside. _Now_.”

“But we’re already inside, Gibson...”

“No, you...! Inside ME!!!”

“OH! ... _Oh_.” Otto felt blood rush through his body, making his cheeks burn and his dick twitch in attentive interest. 

Gibson smashed their mouths together again, and shoved his tongue inside Otto’s mouth. Otto groaned deeply and grabbed Gibson by the hips, hoisting him up. Gibson squeaked, his arms and legs automatically wrapping around his partner as he was picked up. 

“I always forget how STRONG you are,” Gibson growled. A dangerous smirk played across his lips as he dived back in for another heated kiss. And another, and another...

Otto groaned through the sloppy barrage of kisses as he waddled them over to the bed. Gibson whined and lifted his hips to grind his raging erection higher against Otto’s stomach, which placed Otto’s own length against Gibson’s rear end. His... surprisingly warm, wet, _slippery_ -

“Inside, now, Otto, I can’t, I...!”

“Just... just a minute, just lemme...”

Otto pushed Gibson against the side of the bed, which was a bit too tall for them to easily climb into, and used the leverage to free one of his hands. He tugged open the bedside table drawer and rummaged around in the supplies he’d put there earlier.

“ _Ottooooooooooo_...” Gibson’s head had lolled back against the mattress, his fingers digging into the muscles at Otto’s shoulders, his hips grinding his entire lower half desperately against his partner.

“Patience-”

“Don’t you dare “patience” me, Otto!” Gibson went off on a rather impatient tirade, while Otto fumbled for his prize. It wasn’t that Otto didn’t _want_ to pay attention, he did! But his ability to focus on anything was being drained away at an exponential rate as the fog clouded his mind, and he had other, more IMPORTANT things to worry about right now - _like getting a damn condom on so he could finally fuck his favorite buddy._

  
  


In a blurry fit of defiance, he slapped a hand on Gibson’s mouth as he finally - FINALLY! - found a condom his size in the drawer. Gibson made an indignant sound, and rebelliously licked the palm that muffled him. But Otto didn’t pull away - quite the opposite, in fact, he sunk his hand a little further into the warm, welcoming mouth, and Gibson _moaned_. His eyes rolled back, and he sucked on Otto’s hand like a -

Otto _really_ needed to get this condom on, like, YESTERDAY. He tore the little foil package open with his teeth, and rolled the little tube down his cock, making sure to pinch the tip and coat it in a nice, fresh layer of lube. He freed his hands, grabbed Gibson’s hips, and finally, _finally_ plunged in. 

* * *

This is _exactly_ what Gibson had wanted. Since he’d first started getting frustrated with his work hours ago, since Otto had invited him to a lavish dinner date and filled him up with delicious food and delightful conversation (taking care of him the way Otto always does), since Otto had first beaten him at chess; since he’d locked himself up and first caught sight of the lube left carelessly on the counter, since he’d first started fingering himself open, since Otto had started talking to him through the bathroom door, since he’d _jumped_ Otto and started grinding them together, since Otto picked them up together in that unbelievable show of pure, raw strength, since Otto had slammed him against the edge of the bed and gagged him with a hand that refused to slip away, since Otto had taken that little package and torn it open with a flash of canines and a tilt of the head, and gripped his hips and lifted him, just a little bit, like he weighed _nothing,_ and now...

Now, it was DELICIOUS. Feeling Otto fill him - not deep enough to hurt, but just right, just enough to pleasantly poke at the edges of his tolerance (just like Otto always did), making him squirm and moan and _drool_ in pure _relief_ . This was perfection. Pure, unfiltered, _luxurious_ pleasure flowed through him. 

Just when Gibson thought it couldn’t get any better than this, Otto’s hips bucked forward, and Gibson saw stars. _Ah. He’s found the prostate_

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaa! There! Right there, my dear, my love, my glorious partner, my - YES!”

There was something to be said about the ease with which Otto did everything. The ease with which his penis slipped in and out of Gibson’s anal cavity, the ease with which he found his prostate again and again and _again_... the ease with which he drew his own name out of Gibson’s lips, as though it were a mantra, with every single thrust.

“Otto, OTTO, _OTTO_ , **OTTO**!”

Otto bit him, teeth sinking into the junction of his neck, and Gibson moaned and trembled at the new wave of sensation that focused on the almost _grounding_ sensation of brief, sharp pain mixed with firm suction at his neck, helping him find a single point of the body to focus on while the rest of him was still floating in the high of unbelievable pleasure. Otto released his hold, and licked the spot he’d just bitten to soothe the ache. 

“Forgot you were a screamer,” Otto whispered huskily in his ear. 

Gibson felt a very specific, very familiar twisting in his gut at those words.

“Otto, I...! Close! Imma-“

Otto took Gibson’s erection into his own lube-slicked hand, and Gibson screamed, his hands clutching desperately at the bedcovers behind him, torn between rocking forward and back, his mind exploding in ecstasy as he emptied himself. Otto groaned, jerkily working him through his climax, before clinging to his partner for dear life as he followed Gibson’s climax with his own. 

They stood there, shaking against the bed, gasping for air and clinging to one another as common sense finally returned to them. But this time, Gibson did not escape in panic or break down before his partner - his _lover_. 

Gibson didn’t really know what they were to one another, anymore. He wasn’t certain if he even cared anymore, but he did know that Otto cared for him, and was willing to work for _whatever_ they were now. But he now knew that, whatever all of this was, it would not destroy them. They would not hurt one another, would not let instinct take over so much that they’d forgo their respect and reliance upon one another. No, there was only one thing Gibson needed to establish now. 

“We are going to take a shower,” he declared, “and next time, we are _using_ this bed.”

* * *

Captain Shugazoom drifted amongst the trees as they thinned from forest to desert, following a trail of formless skeletons he’d found along the way. He knew where his destination was, of course, but he was still a tad disoriented, and a trail to follow helped him greatly. 

Eventually, the Skeleton King’s castle appeared over the horizon, and he flew right towards it. The Skeleton King most likely knew he was approaching - Alchie rarely overlooked important details like perimeter defenses in a strategy, and he doubted something as simple as a double death could eradicate such a trait completely. 

That’s what he was counting on, really. Alchie still rattling around in there somewhere, _just_ human enough to catch whatever he had. 

Just as he predicted, the Skeleton King was right out front on the balcony when he arrived, either because he was curious to see what a single old man brought him, or because he wanted to face (and maybe even off) his old friend himself.

Thankfully, he wasn’t killed (or even attacked) as he touched down on the balcony to face his old friend. He slid the mask down and lifted his hands with a wide grin. 

“Hi, Alchie. I’m here to surrender.”

The Skeleton King glared down at him, still wearing Alchie’s old robes but with a few new accessories. 

“Very well, old friend.” He summoned some formless to sprout from the earth at his feet, which Captain Shugazoom only just now realized was littered with bones. “Seize him.”

Captain Shugazoom’s grin grew wider.


	10. Of Magic, Mayhem, and Monsterfuckers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So. I was going to have this be a ten-chapter fic, but then everything happened at once and I realized that I cannot possibly communicate all the shenanigans and have a satisfying resolution in just one chapter. So I spit it up into “shenanigans” and “resolution.” This is the Shenanigans chapter. This chapter is rated M for Monsterfuckers, even though any and all monsterfucking happens off-screen in order to make room for the plot.

“What have you done to me?”

Captain Shugazoom started awake. The world was still dark, sometime around 2 or 3am as far as he could tell, and he was chained to what felt like a sort of mossy dungeon wall. A soft red glow was glinting off of a metal face inches from his own. The cold, unyielding, expressionless face of the man who was once his best friend glared at him. _Ah. The Skeleton King._

Captain Shugazoom squirmed. The difficult thing about being chained up on a dungeon wall while your brain was addled with a semi-permanent aphrodasiac was, of course, the inability to touch yourself, which might just be one of the most lucrative forms of torture to exist. Captain Shugazoom was ready to tell this man pretty much anything and everything, if only for the promise of relief that came afterwards. He was willing to beg for it, too, had the whole spiel prepared in his head and everything. But these plans were halted by the question that had just passed from the Skeleton King’s nonexistent lips.

“What was that? I couldn’t quite.. catch ya...”

In an act that was meant to be intimidation, but really only brought excitement and relief, the Skeleton king slammed his forearms on either side of his prisoner, dark gaze intense despite the lack of eyes.

“What. Have. You. Done. To. Me?” The Skeleton King asked again, breath softly caressing Captain Shugazoom’s ear with each emphasize word, and he couldn't help but whimper and buck his hips up, trying to snag some friction, pressure, anything - and nearly went boneless (heh), close to sobbing in relief when his groin found some purchase against a random bone. 

It was hard and hot, and perfect, especially with a big, handsome, monstrous, terrifying man looming over him closely, breathing hotly in his ear and - and was he moaning too...?

The Skeleton king rasped out “Captain” right into his ear, and oh, if THAT didn’t do things to him, sparking memories that were distant even to him, freshly ancient as he was, memories of times spent not just in the beds of various intoxicatingly horrifying creatures, but in the soft, familiar sheets of his best friend’s bed, as they took care of each other in the heated throes of whatever bizarre situation they’d found themselves in this time...

“Alchie,” he gasped, wishing for once that he wasn’t bound to the wall in the throes of passion, wishing he could cling to his old best friend, could drag the humanity buried deeply within him back out again...

“Don’t,” said the Skeleton King, glaring at him with that unyielding metal face. “The Alchemist died lifetimes ago. There is none of him left. He has died several times over, and I am nothing but the monster made from his remains.”

“Heh. Liar.”

The Skeleton King slammed Captain Shugazoom back into the wall, knocking the breath out of him and almost knocking him unconscious. His vision swam dizzily as the Skeleton King hissed into his ear, “I am no liar, Captain. I am a King, ordained by the undead gods themselves, resurrected from the ashes of the remains of the dead body of a dead body. I am immortal and inhuman, and you WILL respect me.”

“Gotta be a little human left in ya, Alchie,” Captain Shugazoom said, a dizzy, cocky smile across his face, slurring his words. “S’ the only way that darn Pollen could infect ya - gotta be like me. Gotta be human. Still in there, Alchie. I knew it.”

The Skeleton King growled. “I told you, the Alchemist is dead! I killed him!”

“Nah, you’re still in there. You just... grew old. Had some really bad things happen to you while I was gone. Looooooots o’ bad memories, lots a’ bad choices... You grew up, and I wasn’t there for ya. I just got stuck with all these fresh old memories, a brain that hasn’t aged a day in a body that slept alll the way through your life... and now look at us, a couple of old coots with nothing left but memories and powers, except yours are all new and mines are all old. Wish I got to grow old with you, but hey, at least I know you’re still around somehow. Even if you grew up to be one of the biggest dicks I’ve ever met.”

The Skeleton King growled in his ear. “I’ll show YOU one of the biggest dicks you’ve ever met, _Captain_.” And oh, the images THAT particular threat inspired, the knowledge that he was about to be fucked within an inch of his life, in one of the kinkiest ways imaginable...

Anyone else would have been terrified. Sickened, by the threat of being abused in such a way by someone so terrifyingly powerful and inhuman. But Captain Shugazoom wasn’t anyone else, he was a veteran hero with an overabundance of particular kinks and a craving for danger. Captain Shugazoom knew this particular monster, knew the human he once was, and he knew that the dictator before him still had a small, invisible little pinprick of humanity left somewhere in him. Somewhere in there, was a man who remembered what it was like to be his friend. And he would have to revisit those long-repressed memories, if he ever wanted to be able to run his empire again. 

So, Captain Shugazoom did what any reasonable hyper-kinky monsterfucking hero whose formerly-heroic, currently-monsterous ex-best friend/fuckbuddy had them chained and pinned to a wall would do. He leaned forward and hissed “Do your worst, _Alchie_.” 

The Skeleton King growled again, the noise sounding deeper, more heated and primal and affected than the one before, almost a moan in its possessive sensuality. 

It wracked a shudder through his old bones, leaving him rasping for a breath or two, but it quickly pulled out a moan of his own, a whine almost, when the Skeleton King swiftly hiked up his robes and undid the belt of his hero’s uniform, letting the pants drop to his knees and digging his claws into his hips, grinding their groins together in a movement that left them both breathless.

Oh, this would be _fun_.

* * *

Jinmay woke up as she normally did, alert and fully charged from seven hours of a dreamless sleep mode. She wasn’t sure if she could dream at all - she was always vaguely aware of her surroundings, if not consciously than subconsciously, and she usually spent her time in sleep mode mindlessly processing information and compiling it in her humanoid robot mind. _Maybe that_ is _what it is to dream_ , she thought: _just staying still and letting yourself wander until you’re ready to face a new day_ . She didn’t really know. There had been a time when she thought herself to be a normal human girl, and there were still times when she forgot she wasn’t: but she found herself wondering about what it was like to really _be_ human a lot lately. 

Jinmay unplugged herself and stood up from her bed, stretching. Her room was small, but normal - light grey walls and a white ceiling, with a dark blue carpet beneath her feet, decorated mostly in pink and green with splashes of yellow. It was the same room she lived in whenever she was on Shugazoom, a small apartment near the Super Robot’s base. One she had thought her parents had bought for her to live in while studying abroad, before she realized these memories were fake and she’d never even had parents in the first place. She could see the Super Robot if she looked out her window, along with the city’s main bridge and the sea beyond. The sky was still splattered with stars, but she could see it turning from inky black to the first shades of dusty blue. Her internal clock told her it was 4:15 am. She got up and got ready for the day, and looked in the mirror. 

She looked exactly the same as she always had. Like a young human girl somewhere between ten and thirty. Jinmay didn’t know if she could age, the way normal humans did. She hadn’t grown any taller, wider, or hairier in the last four years like Chiro had. He was taller than her now, and she didn’t really know how to feel about that. She loved him with all her heart, of course, and he was still undeniably _her Chiro_ . He was just taller, and had broader shoulders and longer hair and was thinking about trying to grow sideburns. She didn’t _mind_ being occasionally swept up in his arms, but it was harder to surprise him with a kiss without flying anymore, and on some level she missed that. He was almost 18 now, almost an adult. Jinmay didn’t know if she’d ever really look like an adult, but she knew she’d never feel like a child again either. Their childhood felt so _short_ . They’d had to grow up so _quickly_. 

She shook her head. Now wasn’t the time for another existential crisis about the nature of her humanity, or the loss of their childhood. She had work to do, people to check in on, resources to manage, monsters to fight, lives to save. She opened the window and locked it behind her, then blasted off to start her early morning patrol.

* * *

Captain Shugazoom lay against the wall again, body boneless and abused in all the best possible ways. The Skeleton King had left the chambers of the dungeon to waddle back to his armies and his throne, and Captain Shugazoom took a few moments to gather himself. 

Then, he closed his eyes.

In a few more moments, Captain Shugazoom’s physical body lay somehow more boneless than before. But his spirit was busier than a rooster on Monday morning. 

Astral projection was one of the trickier skills that Antauri had taught him, but it was a useful one - not just for sending messages to others, but for gathering information for himself, as he was doing right now. His spirit flickered dimly blue in the shadows of the Skeleton King’s laboratory (old coot still had one of those, after all! Old habits really don’t die easy), and he carefully watched his old bestie hard at work. He couldn’t miss a single move - he wouldn’t get another chance for a practical demonstration, and he REALLY needed to know how to make that antidote.

* * *

Antauri didn’t wake up. He never really _slept_ anymore, but he hated being awake all the time, so he usually spent the night meditating in his charging chamber in lieu of sleep. Nevertheless, he returned his awareness to the material world, and he could immediately tell that something was _off_. Sure enough, his communicator was blinking.

He checked the communicator. There weren’t any audio or video messages, but there were some urgent texts from the robo apes. The Allies had a rotating patrol to keep watch over the border between the Skeleton’s Kingdom and the City, and Antauri had recently made the decision to limit that patrol to their inorganic allies, just in case something unexpected happened.

And, indeed, something unexpected HAD happened.

He called Jinmay. 

“Hey Antauri, what’s up?”

“Captain Shugazoom broke quarantine. He’s been captured by the Skeleton King.”

Antauri started floating out of his room and into the common area as he spoke. SPRX and Nova appeared to already be awake, and were curled up together in Nova’s pod chair with a pair of steaming mugs. After a beat, Jinmay finally responded.

“... Please don’t tell me he did this on purpose.”

“It appears as though he went to the Skeleton King’s castle willingly.”

“I’m gonna kill him.”

“I would prefer if you didn’t.”

“Oh no, I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna save his sorry ass, and I’m gonna kill his evil ex boyfriend, and then I’m gonna kill him. Metaphorically, if he’s not already dead from his stupidity.”

“I see you’ve been spending more time with Nova.” He sent Nova a look as he said this, and she just shrugged.

“Maybe it’s just my teenage rebellion phase finally kicking in.” SPRX snorted.

“I actually think it might be best for you to stay out of this, Jinmay. We might be inorganic, but you’re still a child, and -“

“Antauri, while I appreciate the sentiment, I’m not - I’m not a _child_ . I’m not even sure if I actually qualify as a teenager. I’ve had to protect this city on my own for years, remember? I’ve never said this before, and please pardon my French, but I’ve _seen some shit_.”

“Nevertheless, I know the Captain is something of a guardian to you, and -“

“He’s more like a weird old uncle-in-law to me, but go on.”

“-and I’m sure you would prefer to not be scarred by this.”

“Bold of you to assume I haven’t already been scarred by my time protecting these people from the constant threat of doom. I can handle a _little_ more mental and emotional trauma if it means keeping more people I care about from dying.”

“That’s... very brave of you. But I’m still not entirely sure if you know about the _nature_ of this rescue mission -“

Jinmay rolled her eyes. “I know about sex, Antauri. And while the thought of your long-lost super dad having _intercourse_ with the Skeleton King kiiiiiinda makes me wanna reboot myself, I’m _pretty_ sure I can handle it. I’ve had to save my fair share of innocent civilians from sexual assault in the past.”

“... _really?!?_ ”

“Yes. _Really_. And every time, I was more glad that I was able to save innocents than I was upset by what I had seen. That stuff happens whether there’s a hero like me there to save them or not, and I’m glad I was able to be the hero those people needed.”

“... alright. I _suppose_ you can come along on the rescue mission. But we need to do reconnaissance first. Gather up all of our inorganic and non-primate allies, and get everyone else to prepare air-sealed vehicles and mechs.”

“Should I send dad over for a strategy meeting while I get everyone else?”

“Lord Scrapperton? Yes, his insight could prove to be invaluable.”

“Alright then, I’ll snag dad then rally the troops.”

“Thank you, Jinmay.”

“...Hang in there, Antauri. We’ll get him back.”

“I hope so.”

* * *

When the clock read 8:47 AM, the Skeleton King slammed everything down, cast a final spell circle around himself, and drank from the vial of antidote. 

It was then that he finally glanced around the room.

Captain Shugazoom dissolved his spirit out of sight and back to his body as quickly as he could, but he caught the Skeleton King’s lifeless, narrowed eyes in the last split second of his incorporeal form. _Shit_. He’d have to move on to phase 4 of his plan far more quickly than expected.

His tired soul returned to his aching body in a flash, and his eyes popped wide open. He didn’t have any time to pay attention to his complaining body (least of all the aching erection that his infected body was sporting, or the terrible chill of having spent the early hours of the morning hanging naked upon cold stone walls) - the Skeleton King had to have figured out his scheme at this point, and his guards were probably on their way to contain (if not kill) him right now. 

Captain Shugazoom’s one fleeting solace was the knowledge that the Skeleton King would not face him personally, for fear of re-infection. 

Captain Shugazoom gathered up every last little bit of strength that he could muster, and poured it all into his soul, so that he could call upon the greater power that allowed his old body to continue fighting as he was forcefully flung from his stolen youth. The Power Primate flooded his veins, supported his old bones with the fresh vivacity of power, and laced itself deep into his muscles, giving him the strength he needed to break free from his accursed chains. He ran swiftly into the light of day, and was immediately faced with an army of his former best friend’s formless minions.

  
  


Captain Shugazoom continued to run, even as they charged him, and sprang forward, letting the momentum of flight jerk him up, up and away. He flew above the heads of the grounded minions as they tried to grab hold of him, and he laughed as his long beard dangled just out of their reach. He flied higher into the sky, dodging spears and evading skeletal flying chariots, shooting them with lightning and watching them blow up in the air. It had been so, so long since he’d felt alive like this - perhaps he’d never felt this alive, spiritual power flooding his veins, flying through the sky with nothing but his beard flowing in the wind, naked as the day he was born and high off of his lingering arousal and the thrill of the chase as an army of monsters chased him down. All while the evil overlord he had _just fucked_ seethed from his bed chambers, probably pissed off that he couldn’t chase after the elusive Captain Shugazoom himself.

It was _spectacular_.

* * *

Chiro hated everything. He hated the Alchemist for keeping that lousy pollen in his cabinets, and for infecting his teammates. He hated Captain Shugazoom for breaking quarantine for god knows what, and he hated the Skeleton King for keeping his mentor away from his family. He hated not having his full team by his side. And, right now, he hated being stuck in the Super Robot during battle. 

Sure, he understood the necessity of it - only robots and non-primates were allowed to do hand-to-hand combat this time, and most organics had to be protected from this dumb infection thing - but he could be out there, fighting the Skeleton King’s forces! Especially since he KNEW the Super Robot could fight for itself, and didn’t need his help anymore. Antauri was out there. Jinmay was out there! Even Scrapperton was out there fighting, and he was their STRATEGIST! Ugh, he just wanted to _punch something_.

“Quit complaining, Chiro. We’re lucky Antauri even let us join the battle at all, considering the circumstances.”

“Yeah, okay, Olliana. But WHY did we let BT and Glenny pilot Fist Rocket 3 and Foot Crusher Cruiser 5 again?”

“Hey! We can hear you, you know!” Glenny shouted over the intercom.

“Yeah!” BT said, “It’s not OUR fault your monkeys decided to go on vacation! We’re the best you’ve got!”

“... are you really though?”

“Be nice to them, kid. They’re trying their best, okay?”

“Yeah! We’re trying our best!”

“Don’t encourage them, SPRX.”

Chiro might have been less inclined to complain about this whole thing if the situation weren’t so bizarre. Yesterday he was dealing with a terrible, yet bizarrely mundane environmental crisis. Handing out water bottles was nothing compared to his usual method of damage control, which usually involved a lot of physical stress and spiritual exercise. And trauma. Trauma was normal. He was probably gonna need a lot of therapy when all was said and done, considering the fact that he was so used to being traumatized that a single day without trauma left him feeling paranoid, but it was his normal. He was _antsy_ without a battle to fight, a danger to face, a people to protect. Which probably wouldn’t be healthy, if he weren’t “the chosen one,” destined to protect the galaxy from the evils of the Skeleton King.

And, lo and behold, his instincts had been right to be wary of the calm before the storm, because today he was stuck in the Super Robot’s Torso Tank 1, Olliana at the helm of the Brain Scrambler 2 so Antauri could fight out in the open, SPRX in his usual spot at Fist Rocket 3, his old... Bully? Frienemy? Oh god, were they _friends_ now? What in Shugazoom’s name had happened to make BT even _vaguely_ qualified to be Chiro’s friend, never mind pilot Gibson’s Fist Rocket 4? Or Glenny to be able to take Otto’s place at Foot Crusher Cruiser 5, for that matter? 

At least Nova was still at Foot Crusher Cruiser 6. There was at least a little bit of sanity left in the world.

BT interrupted his train of thought. “Hey Chiro, isn’t that your grandpa?”

Chiro glanced up, and saw a familiar flash of white streaking across the sky. “Captain Shugazoom!”

SPRX let go of the breath he’d apparently been holding. “Oh thank god, the old geezer’s _safe_.”

Glenny blinked dumbly out his view screen. “... Why is he naked though?”

Chiro was wrong. There was no sanity left in the world. Or in his predecessor, who was trying to beat an entire army almost entirely by himself. While naked.

“This is officially the weirdest day ever.”


End file.
